THE  UNIVERSITY  OF 

NORTH  CAROLINA 

LIBRARY 


THE  WILMER  COLLECTION 
OF  CIVIL  WAR  NOVELS 
PRESENTED  BY 

RICHARD  H.  WILMER,  JR. 


/I 


(/ 


jyiUaitRCOLLfcjCiiUi 


THE  MONT  AN  AS; 


OB 


UKDER  THE  STAKS. 


21  li0mance« 


BY 

SALLIE    J.    HANCOCK 

OP     KENTUCKY. 


'•  A  day,  an  hour,  of  virtuous  Liberty 
Is  worth  a  whole  eternity  of  bondage." 


^. 


NEW      YORK : 


Carleton,  Publisher^  4.13  Broadway. 


M  DCCC  LXTL 


Entered  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1S66,  by 

GEO.    W.   CAELETON, 

in  the  Clerk's  Office  of  the  District  Court  of  the  United  States  for  the  Southern 
District  of  2^ew  York. 


f 


The  New  York  Printing  Company, 

8i,  83,  and  85  Centre  Street, 

New  York. 


To 

OUR  CIRCLE  IN  TKE  DEAR  OLD   HOME, 

IN 

THE     DAYS     OF     OUR     WAITIXG     AXD     WATCHINa 

FOR  ONE 

WHO  STOOD  BY  THE   FLAG  OF  THE  XATION, 

TJXDEE  ITS    STARS 

WAS    LOVINGLY    INSCRIBED    BY    HIS    SISTEB 

THE    AUTHORESS. 


602937 


The  Montanas. 


CHAPTER  I. 


"  Spontaneous  joys !  where  Nature  has  its  play, 
The  soul  adopts  and  owns  their  first-born  sway. " 

Goldsmith. 

It  was  one  of  those  spaces  that  ensue  when  Nature, 
wearied  of  the  convulsions  from  which  spring  mountains 
lofty  and  grand,  hills  «  rock-ribbed"  and  broken  into  ranges 
vast  and  far,  comes  down  to  repose  for  a  while  on  smooth 
lawns  and  crystal  streams,  whose  currents  dash  in  wild- 
ness  adown  the  steeps,  then  tamely  ripple  through  an 
interval  of  gentle  gliding  on  their  journey  to  the  distant 
sea.  There,  in  one  of  those  vales  of  quietness  in  which 
nestled  the  town  of  Waybum,  where,  after  having  given  up 
our  handsome  house  in  New  York,  we  came  to  live  in  a 
little  cottage,  around  which  the  snow  wrapped  its  great 
white  arms  in  winter-time ;  while  the  cheeiful  fire  glowed 
and  crackled  on  the  hearth  within,  from  which  arose  a 
genuine  old-fashioned  chimney  of  the  Puritan  times,  where 
the  swallows  hold  their  summer  revels  to  this  day.  I  wonder 
if  they  missed  me,  for  my  childish  hands  had  often  fed  them, 
when  after  our  brief  sojourn  we  three  went  away— one  to 
the  sunny,  and  two  to  the  sUent  land  ?  Or  if  m  their  calen- 
dar there  may  be  found  any  record  of  the  time  when  first 


8  THE  MONTANA  S. 

the  echoless  space  reigned  there  grimly,  as  if  in  constant 
reminder  of  the  voices  that  had  ceased  to  speak  as  they 
were  wont  to  speat,  and  now  uttered  words  in  tones  that 
made  the  home  music  cheery  to  other  time  and  place  than 
these,  when  the  merry  cricket  sang  his  season  song  by  the 
hearth-side?  Even  now  I  never  see  a  band  of  swallows 
cutting  the  sunshine  with  their  dark  wings  but  I  think  of 
Raphael,  and  how  they  were  his  only  companions  in  the 
solitary  house,  where  he  lived  with  his  memories  of  a  beau- 
teous love-lighted  past;  and  how  he  fed  and  cared  for 
them  at  the  last,  just  before  his  great  soul — emancipated — 
mounted  the  blue  stairs  to  heaven  where  Julia  was,  with  a 
footstep  light  as  "  swallows  on  the  wing." 

The  thoughts  which  come  to  me  to-day  are  not  alone  of 
him  or  the  swallows  that  he  loved  ;  though  I  too  loved  them, 
for  they  were  long  the  only  tenants  of  my  broken  home. 
A  memory  lies  far  back  amid  the  great  billows  of  the 
past ;  a  calm  space  beneath  a  sky  that  was  sweetly,  brightly 
blue,  and  each  season's  sun  arose  on  flower-strewn  banks. 
The  tides  of  life  broke  stilly  on  those  morning  shores,  and 
the  golden  days  rippled  by  with  a  gliding  tread  that  was 
half  rest,  half  dream.  I  have  often  wondered  if  other 
homes  were  like  tbis  one  of  mine  in  the  feeling  and  the  pre- 
sence ;  time  has  not  answered  my  question  satisfactorily. 
I  know  now  how  the  bright  links  in  the  chain  are  apt  to 
fall  apart  when  misfortune  comes,  cutting  into  them  with 
the  sharp  sabre  of  her  discipline.  And  how  wide  asunder 
the  hearts  of  the  hearth-circle  may  become,  when  spaces 
of  the  outside  world  come  in  between.  But  I  thought  not 
these  thoughts  then,  as  I  lay  in  the  stilly  nights  looking 
from  the  windows  of  my  little  room,  breaking  the  course 
of  the  moon  from  the  first  pale  cold  flicker  of  her  empty 
cycles,  to  the  fall  glory  of  her  perfection  ;  or  pondering  of 


THE  MONTANA  S.  '  9 

the  great  untried  world  outspread  under  the  stars ;  and  of 
the  heaven  that  seemed  so  vast  and  so  far.  I  never  felt 
that  we  were  poor,  for  I  was  so  rich  in  all  those  attributes 
which  tend  so  much  to  brighten  life,  and  make  it  treasured 
in  whatever  sphere  its  altitudes  may  be  cast.  There  was  a 
genial  warmth  in  God's  sunshine,  and  a  glory  in  all  things 
His  hands  had  created.  Oh  !  now  for  the  worship  of  that 
childhood  time  ! 

My  father  marvelled  that  I  never  repined  at  our  chano-e 
of  circumstances,  he  was  himself  so  sore  at  heart ;  and 
when  I  saw  him  bowing  lower  day  by  day,  I  began 
to  feel  very  wicked  that  I  did  nothing  to  take  the  sting 
from  his  crushed  spirit ;  and  grasp  by  one  effort  of  the  will 
aH  he  meant,  when  he  said  to  me  that  his  "  last  venture  had 
failed  him."  There  was  no  change  apparent  in  our  house- 
hold, yet  my  father  came  to  be  a  laborer  for  his  daily 
bread.  Wayburn  had  its  manufactories,  as  have  all  North- 
em  towns,  and  at  one  of  these  he  worked,  growing  each 
day  more  gloomy  and  morose. 

My  gentle  mother,  too,  suffered ;  how  good  she  was  to 
hide  the  pain  that  was  gnawing  at  her  heart,  and  appear  to 
sympathize  with  my  gaiety  of  mood,  which  seemed  only  to 
wound  and  iiTitate  him.  Men  so  rsrely  understand  their 
young  daughters,  though  they  often  forgive  the  wildest 
freaks  and  the  gravest  incursions  upon  authority,  if  the 
error  is  perpetrated  by  a  son. 

I  had  one  female  companion,  Leah  Eldridge,  of  whom  I 
was  very  fond ;  we  often  ran  riot  in  our  garden  grounds 
while  my  father  sat  silent,  and  mother  looked  on  with  an 
expression  I  shall  never  forget.  There  was  such  charity  for 
our  shortcomings,  and  such  tender  love  in  it. 

Oh !  where  in  after  years  do  we  find  the  heart  that  will 
hold  for  us  these  things  like  a  mothei''s  ? 

1* 


10  THE  MONTANA  S. 

At  such  times  Leah  left  me  early  in  the  evenings ;  then 
I  would  brush  my  father's  scattered  hairs,  and  j)re9sing  a 
good-night  kiss  upon  the  lips  of  each,  would  steal  quietly 
to  my  little  room  and  count  the  stars,  until  sleep  came 
so  softly  to  my  pillow  I  half  imagined  I  numbered  them 
in  dreams.  Then  at  morning  I  would  watch  the  sun,  as 
with  golden  fingers  he  knocked  at  the  portals  of  Mr.  Kings- 
well's  great  square  house  on  the  slope,  just  beyond  our 
groimds,  with  its  white  colonnade,  and  mantUng  i\^,  and 
broad  sides  encrusted  with  the  lichens  of  years.  It  was 
pleasant  to  see  the  mists  as  they  rolled  like  sheets  of  crystal 
ether  from  the  summits  of  the  New  Hampshire  hills,  with 
their  forests  of  cedar  rising  dark  into  the  sky. 

In  the  early  evenings,  too,  I  loved  to  watch  life  at  the 
great  house  ;  its  ebb  and  flow  ;  its  lights  flitting  to  and  fro, 
and  shining  in  the  darkness  like  my  stars.  How  strangely 
came  about  my  acquaintance  with  its  inmates.  I  first  met 
Mrs.  Kingswell  at  the  house  of  Captain  Bob  Eldridge  ;  so 
he  was  called  by  everybody  in  Wayburn.  Everybody 
seemed  to  know  him ;  the  smallest  child  could  have  pointed 
out  to  the  curious  stranger  the  eccentric  seafarer's  abiding- 
place. 

It  was  a  tall,  rickety,  old  domicile,  very  bam-like  in  ap- 
pearance, with  very  steep  roof  and  weather-stained  gables, 
to  which  were  attached  martin  boxes  of  a  peculiar  style  of 
architecture,  around  which  the  wind  shrieked  and  howled 
most  piteously  in  the  chill  seasons;  and  a  greenish  slime 
choked  the  few  simple  blossoms  that  dared  to  hft  their 
trusting  heads,  and  look  for  summer  shine  in  the  atmo- 
sphere of  such  dense  thickets  of  arbor  vitae  and  box,  whose 
lower  limbs  ran  together  in  dense  masses  on  the  ground. 

Notwithstanding  the  exterior  was  thus  unprepossessing, 
within  were  the  marks  of  thrift  visible  everywhere;   for 


THE  MONTANAS.  11 

Mrs.  Alice  was  a  tidy  housewife,  and  Leah  was  swiftly 
growing  into  the  ways  her  mother  had  striven  to  teach  her ; 
so,  despite  one  lowering  shadow,  this  too  was  a  happy 
home. 

Mrs.  Eldridge  had  been  for  years  an  invalid.  She  seemed 
spirit-broken  like  my  father.  The  ways  of  sorrow  are 
common  ways,  and  we  fall  into  them  very  readily. 

Captain  Bob  was  a  cheerful  fellow,  very  full  of  jokes  and 
stale  aphorisms.  He  came  often  to  our  house,  and  his 
visits  seemed  to  cheer  my  father  though  they  were  short, 
and  the  evenings  usually  long ;  yet  his  presence,  however 
brief  his  stay,  was  a  source  of  comfort  to  the  old  man. 
We  love  to  have  those  about  us  who  are  well  and  strong, 
when  we  are  weak  and  suflfer.  I  say  old,  though  my  father 
was  still  young  in  years ;  I  did  not  then  know  that  time 
is  the  last  thing  to  blanch  the  cheek  and  silver  the  hair. 
There  are  bypaths  to  age  much  shorter  than  those  throuo-h 
the  years  which  we  live  upon  earth  ;  those  of  grief  and  sin 
are  briefest  of  all. 

Mrs.  Eldridge  was  suffering  more  than  usual,  and  Mrs. 
Kingswell  spent  much  time  with  her.  Even  then  I  had  a 
vague  presentiment,  which  afterwards  became  a  certainty,  that 
kind  as  was  this  lady  to  his  wife,  her  visits  annoyed  Captain 
Bob  ;  and  that  he,  of  manner  usually  off-hand  and  careless, 
was  restive  and  uncomfortable  in  her  presence.  Though  I 
was  surprised  at  the  brusque  tone  of  his  declination  of  a 
courtesy  so  gentle,  when  she  suggested  that  her  husband 
would  come  down  with  her  "  in  the  evening  for  awhile," 
the  Captain  very  gruffly  thanked  her,  saying  he  would  prefer, 
since  she  chose  to  come,  that  she  came  alone!  The  lady's 
face  flushed  for  a  moment,  but  she  checked  herself  in  the 
manifestation  of  the  slight  feeling  of  resentment  for  the — 
"  eccentricity"    of  the  old  sailor.     Yes ;  she  was  actually 


12  TUE  MONTANAS. 

charitable  enough  to  attribute  his  manner  to  this  source, 
and  her  face  settled  again  to  its  usual  sweet  placidity  when 
she  saw  the  deprecating,  pleading  eyes  of  the  sick  woman 
fixed  earnestly  upon  her.  "  I  will  come  this  evening,  as  I 
promised  to  do,"  she  said,  and  left  the  house. 

Mrs.  Eldridge  ventured  very  timidly  to  expostulate  wdth 
her  husband  after  their  guest  had  departed,  saying : 

"  It  is  too  bad,  she  has  been  so  kind ;  it  was  only  this 
day  she  said  it  gave  her  such  an  unaccountable  pleasure  to 
be  here.  I  was  almost  tempted  to  tell  her  why  it  was  so. 
In  my  younger  days  I  was  much  like  William.  There 
may  yet  be  enough  left  of  the  old  manner  to  have  attached 
her  to  me.  I  wanted  to  take  her  in  my  arms  and  proclaim 
the  tie  that  existed  between  us,  but  I  dared  not." 

Captain  Bob  was  usually  kind  and  patient  towards  his 
wife,  but  now  he  seemed  in  danger  of  losing  his  temper, 
quite. 

,"  Alice,  are  you  a  fool  ?  Excuse  me,  but  have  you  no 
pride ;  what  would  you  receive  fi'om  that  man  ?  Did  he  not, 
in  his  letter  of  scathing  reproach,  bid  you  '  whatever  came 
to  pass,  never  speak  to  him,  or  seek  to  have  him  recognise 
you,  for  he  should  feel  degraded  by  the  contact  ? ' 

"  Do  you  expect  me  to  receive  here,  in  my  house,  the  man 
who  used  such  insulting  language  to  my  wife  ?  Am  I  to 
humble  myself  before  this  proud  aristocrat  ?  He  is  rich ! 
/  am  poor  I  But  my  self-respect  equals  his,  and  I  would 
rather  die  in  want  than  play  the  despised  suppliant  to  any 
nabob  in  the  land.  Just  count  Bob  Eldridge  out,  will  you  ? 
Not  even  for  you  would  I  do  this  ;  and  you  well  know  that 
durinor  our  life  to2:ether  it  is  the  first  thinor  I  ever  refused 
which  you  asked  of  me,  or  even  hinted  would  give  you 
pleasure." 

His  voice  had  softened  much  before  he  uttered  the  last 


THE  MONTANAS.  13 

words.  Tliey  were  unaware  of  my  presence  in  an  adjoinino* 
room,  where  Leah  had  left  me  while  she  went  above  stairs 
to  fetch  some  prints  they  had  brought  from  China.  I  felt 
guilty  in  thus  listening  to  what  it  was  not  designed  by 
either  I  should  hear ;  and  was  just  on  the  eve  of  with- 
drawing when  the  wife's  gentle  tones  arrested  me,  so  earnest 
were  they : 

"  You  have  always  been  good  to  me,  Robert,  and  kind ; 
but  you  are  unjust  to  William.  He,  too,  was  good  to  me 
once,  as  he  is  to  the  whole  world  now — of  his  friends  and 
acquaintances.  Those  words  of  his — those  written  words, 
which  struck  us  both  so  cruelly — were  hasty;  they  were 
unlike  any  others  that  came  from  him  ;  and  I  have  no  right, 
knowing  William  as  I  do,  to  lay  them  up  in  anger  against 
him.  They  were  prompted  by  the  first  heated  impulse  up- 
springing  from  a  deep  sense  of  injury.  Ask  yourself  if  you 
would  not  have  said  more  had  you  been  in  his  plape  and 
he  in.  yours  ? " 

Captain  Bob  hung  his  head,  and  though  he  did  not 
admit  that  she  was  correct  in  the  assumption  of  this  truth, 
he  certainly  did  not  feel  called  upon  to  assert  that  she  was 
wrong;  he  remained  very  sensibly  silent  while  his  wife 
proceeded : 

"  You  are  proud,  Robert,  and  self-respectful.  So  am  I ; 
but  it  has  not  been  pride  that  has  kept  me,  Alice  Eldridgc, 
from  William  Kingswell.  Oh  !  the  bitter,  bitter  memories 
that  have  made  such  barriers  betvv-een  us.  I  only  remain 
asunder  because  I  could  not  early  bear  to  be  near  him. 
Could  I  look  him  in  the  face,  and  have  his  eyes  always  say- 
ing to  me,  though  his  lips  were  never  so  silent,  '  Ah  !  Alice, 
there  are  two  graves  at  your  old  home  which,  but  for  you, 
had  not  been  made  so  early  ? '  I  could  never  bear  this, 
and  that  is  why  we  have  not  met ;   that  is  why  I  have 


14  THE  MONTANAS. 

blindly  obeyed  your  mandate.  Yes ;  believe  and  forgive 
me,  Robert,  the  only  reason." 

The  Captain  was  visibly  moved,  and  said  m  a  tender  tone, 
"  And  did  you  love  me,  Alice,  and  are  you  sorry  that  you 
•went  away  with  me !  "  She  turned  her  tearful  eyes  upon 
him;  the  same  dear  love  for  him  that  always  shone  there 
was  shining  still.  "No,  Robert!  not  sorry  I  went,  but 
sorry  I  stayed.  I  was  so  vainly  happy  in  your  love.  I 
never  thought  how  my  poor,  blind  mother's  heart  was  break- 
ing for  her  wayward  child.  After  I  became  a  mother  I 
could  understand  those  things,  and  that  was  why  I  wished 
to  come  back,  but  it  was  too  late  ;  they  were  gone,  and  the 
old  home  desolate.  Though  I  would  see  William,  Robert, 
before  I  die — go  away  never  to  come  back ;  just  one 
word  to  tell  me  you  consent." 

He  sat  thinking,  with  his  head  upon  his  hand.  I  was 
thinking,  too,  perhaps  it  was  better  not.  Sympathy  can- 
not take  the  sting  from  the  remorseful  heart,  however  potent 
in  alleviating  sorrow.  Leah  came  back  at  this  juncture, 
and  I  heard  no  more  save  a  few  broken  sobs  at  interv^als, 
and  then  a  heavy,  low,  deep  sigh  from  Captain  Bob  ;  from 
a  soul  that  refused  to  be  loosed  from  the  torture-rack  of 
its  error.  Tliese  are  the  most  galling  spirit-bonds,  where 
reason  and  judgment  assert  a  premise  which  will  and  in- 
clination utterly  disclaim.  Oh!  had  he  but  known,  that 
rough,  though  kind-hearted  man,  how  one  little  word  fitly 
spoken  would  have  opened  wide  the  gates,  through  man's 
pardon,  to  a  just  God's ;  have  taken  off  the  dragging 
weight  of  a  terrible  life-long  suspense  from  the  wings  of  a 
noble  spirit ;  unsealed  the  close-shut  fountains  of  tenderness 
in  the  heart  of  a  worthy  man ;  taken  girlish  feet  from  out 
the  ways  of  temptation,  where  the  lines  of  her  life  might 
chance  to  fall,  and  the  possibilities  of  sin,  to  place  them  on 


THE  M0NTANA8.  15 

the  heights  where  principle  would  hold  them  firm,  and 
those,  too,  his  child's — his  young  daughter's  feet.  And 
more  perhaps  than  all  this,  taken  a  thorn  from  out  his 
dying  wife's  side ;  and  strewn  with  beautiful  flowers  even 
the  darkness  of  that  death  in  whose  lowerinor  shadow  he 
then  groped.  All  this  one  little  word  might  have  done, 
and  yet  the  summer  went  by  for  them.  The  harvest  of  its 
golden  days  was  ended ;  and  that  one  word,  under  sun  or 
stars,-  was  never  spoken. 

I  remember  one  evening  Captain  Bob  came  round  as 
usual ;  he  had  left  Mrs.  Kingswell  with  his  wife.  He  and 
my  father  sat  talking,  or  rather  he  talked  and  we  listened, 
until  it  was  far  into  the  night.  This  was  his  story,  told 
feelingly  at  broken  inter\'als,  interspersed  with  such  apho- 
risms as  he  always  chose  to  season  his  discourses.  Some 
strange  caprice  had  unlocked  the  floodgates  this  night. 

"I  think,  Mr.  Montana,  a  man  should  think  long  and 
seriously  before  he  takes  a  young  girl  from  her  parents' 
roof  into  the  rough  world  with  him,  no  matter  how  dear 
his  love  for  her,  or  what  the  feelings  which  prompted  him. 
It  may  do  very  well  while  the  money  lasts,  but  when 
wealth  is  gone,  and  health  is  gone — aye  !  sir,  '  there's  the 
rub.'  When  I  was  able  to  support  my  wife  in  a  style  to 
which  she  was  accustomed  before,  I  was  happy  and  she 
was  happy  ;  but  now,  since  we  have  fallen  from  that  estate, 
she  droops,  and  I  have  to  see  her  failing  day  by  day,  and  I 
cannot  help  her.  Oh !  it  is  very  hard,  Mr.  Montana ;  very 
hard,  sir." 

He  bowed  his  head,  and  I  could  see  by  the  light  of  my 
stars  that  there  were  tears  upon  his  cheek.  Then  he  pro- 
ceeded as  if  talking  in  justification  of  himself : 

"  Though,  in  sooth,  a  less  susceptible  man  than  myself 
would  have  loved  my  Alice,  for  she  was  a  beauty  and  no 


16  TEE  MONTANAS. 

mistake.  Our  acquaintance  was  so  romantic,  too.  I  sat 
singing  one  afternoon  as  T  watched  the  lowering  quay — our 
ship  had  just  come  into  port — one  of  my  wild  sailor  songs, 
when  she,  chancing  to  pass  that  way,  paused  to  listen  ;  per- 
ceiving the  motion  I  sank  my  voice  to  its  most  melodious 
tone,  and  chanted  rather  than  sang  one  of  those  old  ballads 
which  I  had  heard  the  Italians  sing  when  steering  their 
gondoliers  by  moonlight  on  the  Arno.  The  song  concluded, 
she  passed  on.  I,  charmed  by  her  wondrous  beauty,  fol- 
lowed her  at  a  respectful  distance  to  see  where  she  lived. 
Then  I  sent  her  flowers  every  day  ;  then  it  came  to  pass 
that  she  recognised  me,  and  we  exchanged  notes  at  stated 
intervals ;  and  I  knew  she  loved  me,  though  she  never  in- 
vited me  to  call. 

"  I  was  not  far  wrong  in  my  suspicions  as  to  the  true 
cause  of  my  exclusion.  She  had  many  suitors — one,  who 
was  accepted  hy  her  parents ;  and  she  well  knew  they 
would  never  look  with  any  degree  of  favor  on  me.  My 
pride  was  hurt  at  this,  for  Bob  Eldridge  was  one  whose 
conduct  had  never  been  such  as  to  exclude  from  him  the 
right  to  stand  up  as  the  equal  of  any  honest  man,  whatever 
difference  circumstances  might  make  in  their  conditions. 
So  I  said  to  myself,  '  There  are  pretty  women  in  every  port ; 
do  not  make  a  fool  of  yourself.  Bob,  about  this  one ;'  but  I 
had  grown  to  be  twenty-five  without  ha\'ing  really  loved 
any  one,  until  Alice,  with  her  sweet  face,  crossed  my  path. 
And  the  more  I  tried  to  forget  her,  the  more  impossible  I 
found  it  ta  do  so.  I  was  man,  too  ;  and  there  were  both 
reveno-e  and  vanitv  in  mv  nature.  I  resolved  to  marry  her 
at  all  hazard.  Her  haughty  friends  would  have  looked 
down  on  me  and  called  me  plebeian,  and  I  for  this  meant  to 
set  their  authority  and  scruples  at  defiance.  Then  there 
were  two  or  three  young  men,  each  of  whom  fancied  him- 


THE  MONTANAS.  11 

self  the  favored  suitor  of  Alice.  I  just  thought  how 
charming  it  would  be  to  play  a  Spanish  trick  upon  the  whole 
ship's  crew  of  them ;  and  Alice  readily  consenting  to  my 
proposals,  we  were  married  on  the  vessel  the  very  morning 
she  sailed — Alice  merely  leaving  a  note  behind  to  say 
she  had  '  found  a  protector  who  was  better  suited  to  her 
than  any  they  could  have  selected.'  We  neither  of  us 
thought  what  false  construction  might  be  and  was  put  upon 
her  hasty  flight,  until  William  Kingswell's  letter  came  to 
us  beyond  the  seas.  He  should  have  known  Alice  better 
than  it  seems  he  did.  No ;  we  never  dreamed  of  this,  we 
were  so  happy.  I  felt  very  like  a  prince  to  have  that  beau- 
tiful young  thing  clinging  to  me,  all  my  own;  I,  as  she 
said,  'her. only  protector.'  And  at  evening,  sitting  on  the 
broad  deck  with  my  arms  around  her,  and  the  great  sea 
heaving  round  us  both,  I  sang  to  her  the  olfl  songs  under 
the  stars,  and  thanked  the  Master  who  had  held  the  helm 
in  all  the  storms  through  which  I  had  passed  for  His 
gift. 

"  I  had  always  spent  money  very  freely,  but  I  had  saved  a 
very  pretty  sum,  and  for  years  Alice  never  wanted  a  luxury ; 
and  it  has  been  my  pride  to  say  that  even  in  the  darkest 
days  of  our  reverses  she  never  lacked  a  comfort.  We  might 
yet  have  been  happy  and  prosperous  in~our  home  beyond 
the  sea ;  but  after  she  heard  of  the  death  of  her  parents — 
she  was  tenderly  attached-to  both — more  especially  her 
mother,  who  had  been  blind  from  birth,  she  seemed  possess- 
ed of  an  uncontrollable  desire  to  return  to  her  native  land. 
Then  when  we  came  to  her  old  home,  she  could  not  bear 
to  remain  there ;  so  we  drifted  out  here,  and  somehow 
we  have  been  going"  down  hill  ever  since ;  for  now  I  see 
that  she  is  leaving  me  from  day  to  day ;  I  have  little  heart 
to  work,  and  seem  to  care  very  little  about  prosperity.    True, 


18  THE  MONTANAS. 

there  is  Leah ;  but  what  will  I  do  with  the  girl,  and  no 
mother  to  train  and  teach  her  ? " 

Captain  Bob  looked  down  here.  Again  I  saw  his  tears  swift 
falling  in  the  still,  white  moonlight,  but  he  soon  recovered 
himself,  and  then  w  ent  on  to  saj  as  though  he  had  never  ceased 
his  narrative  :  "  I  wish,  though,  that  Alice  had  never  insisted 
upon  my  coming  to  Wayburn.  I  did  not  know  until  recent- 
ly it  was  because  William  Kingswell  had  located  here." 

"  Does  he  suspect,"  said  my  father,  "  that  she  is " 

"  No,  no !  and  what  is  more,  T  do  not  intend  he  shall. 
My  pride  is  too  strong  for  that.  His  wife  seems  an  angel, 
almost,  and  Alice  is  very  fond  of  her.  And  they  two  have 
well-nigh  upset  my  plans  several  times ;  but  why  am  I  talk- 
ing idly  on  and  on  of  the  things  which  oppress  me  from 
day  to  day  ?  I  must  be  going.  You  will  not  betray  me,  1  am 
sure.  Come  back  to  work  as  soon  as  you  are  able.  We 
want  you ;  the  hands  need  a  master-spirit."  Here  Captain 
Bob  laughed  a  rather  hollow-sounding  laugh  at  his  own  joke. 
As  there  was  a  heart  of  tenderness,  so  was  there  a  broad, 
sunny  area  in  the  nature  of  this  man — very  commonplace, 
yet  possessing  attributes  that  isolated  him  from  the  majority 
of  his  kind.  It  was  one  of  his  most  marked  peculiarities 
that  he  never  failed  to  see  the  point  of  his  own  jokes,  how- 
ever blunt  and  imperceptible  they  were  to  others.  Now 
he  bade  us  adieu,  and  went  singing  down  the  road,  thinking, 
perhaps,  the  eflbrt  at  gaiety  might  take  the  weight  from  his 
spirits.  Men  are  strange  creatures;  they  turn  the  by-paths 
to  avoid  sorrow,  and  when  they  must  stand  face  to  face 
with  it,  how  they  seek,  by  many  an  idle  subterfuge,  to  es- 
cape from  its  circling  influence. 

It  so  happened  that  I  was  iU  for  several  weeks,  confined 
at  home  ;  and  when  I  was  able  to  go  abroad,  Captain  Bob 
made  no  longer  a  pretence  of  singing  away  the  dreary 


THE  MONTANAS.  19 

weigKt  that  oppressed  him;    surely,  now,  there  was  no- 
thing left  him  but  to  face  his  woe. 

Poor  old  man,  how  I  pitied  him,  sitting  alone  with  Leah 
in  the  solitary  house.     The  wife  and  mother's  chair  was 
empty  ;  from  her  earthly  dwelling-place  she  had  been  trans- 
ferred to  a  house  whose  roof  was  low  and  narrow,  and  long 
and  dark— close  shut  mthin  four  walls.     There  she  slept,  out 
under  the  clinging  sunshine,  under  the   stars — in  her  last 
}iouse — the  gravel     The   house   for   which   the   rich  and 
mighty  of  this  world  must  exchange  their  "  castles  full  of 
splendor,"  and  the  weak  and  the  weary  find  their  first, 
long,  dreamless  rest.     Ah !  as  surely,  too,  was  "  that  vast 
sea  which  rolls  round  all  the  world,"  bearing  my  loved  ones 
on  its  bosom ;  and  upon  the  shores  of  youth  and  morning 
wave  meeting  wave,  and  the  circle  that  runs  its  round  with 
the  race  of  man,  came  into  itself  again.     To  those  that 
were  going,  gone,  there  was  the  boundless  area  of  an  im- 
mortal destiny;  while  to  me,  who  loitered  playing  with 
the  golden  sands— and  to  the  desolate  old  man  in  his  soli- 
tary home,  his  motherless  child  clinging  to  him,  and  the 
waves,  fiercer  than  those  he  had  often  ridden  at  half-mast, 
when  the  storm-clouds  were  dark  and  tides  ran  high,  lash- 
ing him  as  he  sat  on  the  barren,  beaten  shore — this  house 
was  alike  long  and  low  and  narrow  and  dark,  when  those 
we  held  most  dear  were  locked  in  its  grim  silences  ;  and  of 
all  that  had  been  to  each  of  us,  only  this  green-growing 
door,  shut  close  until  the  resurrection  mom,  to  drop  tears 
upon. 

There  the  soul  of  youth  and  the  soul  of  age  kept  tire- 
less watchips  of  memory  under  the. eternal  stars. 


20  THE  MONTANAS. 


CHAPTER  II. 


"Love  is  not  in  our  power. 
Nay,  what  seems  etrapger,  is  not  in  our  choice  ; 
We  only  love  where  fate  ordains  we  should." 

Feoudk. 

I  ROSE  quite  early  one  morning,  and  walked  out  to  my  favor- 
ite haunt  on  tlie  strand.  The  sun,  just  rising,  had  stained  to 
amber  the  current  of  the  bright-flowing  river,  with  its  flood 
of  golden  beams.  Long  I,  sat  in  the  still  glory,  as  I  was 
accustomed  to  do  on  mornings  like  this,  tracing  names 
upon  the  sand,  and  watching  the  light  waves  as  they  came 
up  to  wash  them  out.  Soft  gliding  down  the  stream  came 
a  small  sail-boat,  light  and  airy  as  a  swallow,  cutting  the 
smooth  surface  with  her  painted  prow,  in  which  sat  a  youth 
of  most  striking  appearance. 

Turning  his  skiff"  half  round,  resting  on  the  left  oar,  he 
floated  with  the  current  near  to  where  I  sat,  then  sprang 
lightly  on  the  sands.  There  was  a  grandeur  on  his  face  as 
he  stood,  the  bright  morning  reflected  from  waves  that 
kissed  the  shore  at  our  feet,  girding  him  about  as  with  a 
retinue  of  sunbeams.  He  regarded  me  with  a  look  half 
amused ;  as  he  bowed  with  a  grace  so  winning  and  courteous, 
I  was  undecided  whether  it  were  best  to  treat  him  with  the 
frankness  due  a  boy,  or  the  reserve  vrith  which  I  would 
have  received  a  man  whose  years  bespoke  for  him  a  man's 
prerogative  of  earnest  civility. 

He  wore  a  suit  of  spotless  linen,  silken  half-hose,  and 
slippers  of  shining  leather,  panama  hat  with  broad  black 
band  ;  his  collar  and  wristbands  were  fastened  with  buttons 
it  dazzled  my  eyes  to  look  upon.  These  little  details  of 
dress  I  mention  because  they  form  a  part  of  the  strange 
mystic  impression  that  fixed  itself  upon  me  then  as  pre- 


THE  MONTANAS.  21 

senting  so  strildng  a  contrast  to  the  sober,  drab-apparelled 
youth  of  Wayburn. 

"  I  fear  I  have  interrupted  your  very  pleasant  occupa- 
tion," he  said,  naively.  "  It  is  a  favorite  pastime  of  mine  ; 
I  love  to  trace  names  upon  the  sand,  yet  how  soon  the  tides 
wash  them  out."  I  am  sure  I  blushed,  for  I  was  so  con- 
fused I  could  make  no  reply,  but  sat  heaping  up  the  shining, 
particles,  my  hands  dripping  with  the  surf.  He  added, 
apologetically  : 

"  I  have  few  lady  acquaintances  in  Wayburn  ;  I  wish  we 
could  be  friends ;  I  am  sure  that  I  should  like  you,  now 
that  I  have  found  you  here  the  presiding  genius  of  wave 
and  sunbeam — tracing  names  upon  the  sand.  Why  not 
write  your  inscriptions  where  they  will  be  more  lasting? 
Nature  is  an  inconstant  jade,  for  ever  ringing  in  the  dirges 
of  her  seasons.  Do  not  trust  her,  she  is  faithless ;  she  will 
not  teach  us  the  lessons  which,  as  sweethearts  and  lovers, 
we  should  know.  They  should  wear  the  insignia  of  eternal 
truth." 

I  looked  at  him  very  quizzically,  forgetting  how  embar- 
rassed I  had  been,  thinking  he  must  be  a  very  precocious 
fellow  to  talk  about  love  in  any  sense.  I  was  as  romantic 
as  young  ladies  given  to  star-gazing  and  romance-reading 
are  expected  to  be  in  their  pinafore  days.  Yet  it  was  dif- 
ficult for  one  of  my  ardent  temperament  to  detect  in  the 
form  of  my  cavalier  one  feature  in  accordance  with  my 
standard  of  a  hero,  who  would  probably  talk  about  "  woo- 
ing nature,"  or  "sweethearts,"  or  "lovers,"  or  "eternal 
truth."  Nor  in  my  humble  estimate  had  an  individual  any 
right  to  aspire  to  such  distinction  who  had  not  arrived  at 
the  dignity  of  his  first  beard,  even  though  he  wore  diamond 
buttons  of  first  water  and  lifted  his  panama  hat  to  a  simple 
rustic  like  myself  with  the  grace  of  Adonis.      I  imagine  he 


22  THE  MONTANAS. 

divined  my  thoughts,  for  he  said,  half  seriously,  half  play- 
fully : 

"  Your  ideas  of  love  are  circumscribed.  To  what  age  or 
condition  does  it  specially  belong  ?  What  power  has  ever 
yet  encompassed  its  vast  range  ?  To  childhood  and  youth 
it  is  one  thing,  to  philosophers  another,  to  painters  and 
poets  yet  another,  to  the  great  heart  of  nature  and  humanity 
still  another.  There  can  be  no  standard  suflBciently  just 
and  accurate  to  measure  what  is  illimitable.  Again,  can 
love,  a  thing  itself  infinite,  be  reduced  to  system  involv- 
ing form  and  law  ? "  I  felt  that  this  youth,  at  whom  I 
should  have  sneered  five  minutes  ago,  was  entirely  without 
the  pale  of  my  ridicule;  being  disinclined  to  measure 
lances  with  him,  I  terminated  a  brief  fit  of  musing  with  the 
question,  "  Do  you  live  here  ? " 

"  No ;  I  am  only  sojourning  at  Way  bum  with  my  uncle, 
Mr.  Kingswell.  New  Orleans  is  my  native  place,  and  there 
I  reside  a  portion  of  each  year." 

My  feeling  now  was  more  than  mere  surprise !  It  was 
the  wrapping  about  my  Northern  proportions  the  garb  of 
sectional  sanctity,  in  a  manner  that  said,  "  I  am  holier  than 
thou ! "  From  that  land,  reeking  with  the  curse  of  Ca- 
naan ;  that  far  away  Sodom,  which  I  had  been  taught  to 
regard  with  horror,  not  by  my  parents  but  by  teachers  and 
ministers  of  the  gospel,  who  looked  at  the  evil  through  the 
spectacles  of  a  fanaticism  which  lent  no  enchantment  to  the 
view.  I  pursed  up  my  mouth  with  a  very  self-righteous 
expression,  and  bade  my  cavalier  a  cold  good-morning ; 
with  the  same  gi-aceful  alacrity  that  marked  his  demeanor 
on  landing,  he  fastened  his  boat  and  was  by  my  side,  ere  I 
was  aware  of  his  intention,  to  accompany  me  home. 

"  Do  you  live  here  ? "  he  said,  as  I  halted  at  the  piazza 
of  our  vine-covered  cottage,  the   dimensions  of  which  he 


THE  MONTANAS.  23 

had  compassed  in  one  hasty,  indifferent  glance.  Now  I  had 
asked  of  him  a  similar  question  previously ;  he  responding 
politely  and  kindly.  Why  could  not  I  do  likewise  ?  Be- 
cause my  eyes  were  blinded  to  one  of  those  grand  truths 
luminous  as  the  sun  in  heaven.  One  of  the  lights  shrouded 
with  the  dark  mantle  of  prejudice  might  make  for  us,  were 
reason  and  judgment  permitted  to  rend  the  veil  in  twain, 
the  radiance  of  a  great  peace  in  the  glooms  where  a  nation 
lies  struggling,  bleeding,  under  her  stars  1 

Perhaps,  too,  it  was  because  I  contrasted  my  humble 
sphere  with  his  evidently  superior  position  that  I  answered 
him  with  such  bitter  asperity. 

"  Yes,  and  my  father  is  a  day-laborer  in  yonder  factory. 
You  who  are  taught  to  look  upon  work  as  beneath  the 
dignity  of  ladies  and  gentlemen — regarding  those  who  in 
your  esteem  degrade  themselves  necessarily  in  the  per- 
formance of  any  duty,  as  slaves  are  menial,  I  presume  would 
scarcely  have  taken  the  trouble  to  escort  me  home  had  you 
known  me  as  the  daughter  of  such  a  one." 

"  Then  you  mistake  me  very  much,"  he  answered,  with 
sudden  dignity  and  not  a  little  coldness  in  his  tone.  "  I 
was  taught  by  my  parents  not  to  recognise  between  the 
people  of  any  locality  or  the  representatives  of  any  race, 
distinctions,  save  those  traced  by  the  hand  of  God.  There 
is  no  superiority  save  the  majesty  of  mind,  which  gives 
dignity  to  any  system,  and  asserts  itself  in  any  condition. 
It  was  this  I  saw  shining  in  your  face  when  we  met.  My 
mother  was  a  Northern  woman,  my  stepfather  and  present 
guardian  is  a  Northern  man  ;  believe  me,  we  in  the  South 
think  much  less  of  these  things  than  you  affect  to  do.  I 
fear,  however,  I  am  guilty  of  unpardonable  intrusion ;  I 
hope  you  can  forgive  me ;  I  will  promise  not  to  offend  again. 
Good-morning ! " 


24  *  TEE  MONTANAS. 

Strange,  strange,  in  the  days  that  came  and  went,  go 
often  as  I  would  to  my  old  trysting-place,  I  saw  him  no 
more ;  but  that  one  golden  morning,  with  its  brightness 
circling  about  him,  shone  in  my  life  for  ever  after.  Several 
times  I  saw  him  lying  under  the  shadow  of  the  great  trees 
on  the  terraces  of  Ridgely. 

Time  passed.  I  traced  names  upon  the  sand  and  the 
waves  washed  them  out,  until  the  summer  was  quite  gone 
and  the  amber  glow  of  late  October  was  on  the  New  Hamp- 
shire hills.  Still  my  golden  riv^  glided  on — on ;  now  under 
the  bright  sky  of  morning,  now  under  the  stars.  "VMiither 
was  it  bearing  me  in  my  dream  ?  AMiy  was  it  I  sang  no 
longer  through  the  days,  but  pondered  more  frequently 
about  our  change  of  circumstances,  and  grew  more  into  the 
home  ways  with  a  gentler  care  for  all  ? 

Even  now  as  I  look  back  I  can  find  no  place  in  the  far 
sunbright  memory  for  what  came  next. 

My  father  went  one  morning  to  his  work  as  usual,  but 
soon  returned  pale  and  ghastly  as  a  corpse.  He  sank 
fainting  into  a  chair.  My  mother's  shriek  brought  Eleanor, 
our  maid  of  all  work,  to  her  aid ;  while  I,  stupified,  lent  my 
assistance  in  the  application  of  such  restoratives  as  we  could 
command.  We  soon  had  the  happiness  of  seeing  him  so 
much  revived  that  by  noon  he  was  enabled  to  sit  against  a 
prop  of  pillows,  and  talk  very  calmly  to  my  mother  about 
the  things  he  wished,  and  what  it  would  be  needful  for  us 
to  do  when  he  was  gone.  At  length,  after  a  long  inteiTal 
of  sobbing,  my  mother  said  brokenly : 

"  May  I  not  write  to  Clififord  James,  and  tell  him  your 
true  situation  ?  Perhaps,  after  all,  it  has  not  been  the  want 
of  brotherly  affection  that  has  kept  him  from  you  ;  it  may 
be  that  the  cares  and  the  responsibilities  of  his  Southern 
life  have  so  multiplied  about  him,  he  finds  no  leisure  for 


THE  MONTANAS.  25 

the  duties  that  once  were  pleasures.  Let  me  tell  him  how 
your  final  venture  has  failed  you,  and  the  last  effort  is 
fruitless." 

"No,  no,  wife;  he  neglected  me  when  my  position  was 
equal  to  his.  I  know  not  who  was  most  to  blame ;  but  I 
do  know  that  one  of  those  sectional  barriers  grew  up  gradu- 
ally and  strong  between  our  brother  hearts.  I  railed  at 
his  slaveholding.  He  has  requited  my  interference  with 
years  of  silent,  contemptuous  indifference.  I  cannot  now 
be  brought  to  force  my  broken  life  upon  his  remembrance. 
He  would  not  like  to  hear  the  sad  story." 

Oh,  pride  !  thou  who  dost  build  barriers  between  brother 
hearts  and  other  hearts  that  love,  in  all  the  highways  and 
byways  of  this  earth  !  thou  shouldst  have  no  place  here — 
where  one  broken,  sorrowing  man  is  coming  down  with 
weary  feet  to  the  border-land  of  death — where  his  brother, 
too,  shall  come  one  day — down  from  the  high  eminence  of 
wealth  and  position,  lowly  as  he  should  stand  now  by  his 
side — though  one  should  stay,  and  one  go  out  into  the 
miknown  alone. 

Unable  to  combat  these  thoughts,  for  I  had  often  re- 
gretted my  father's  estrangement  from  his  brother,  I  passed 
to  my  own  room,  where  I  could  weep  in  solitude.  Uncon- 
sciously I  walked  to  the  low  window  and  looked  out  through 
tears  of  silent  bitterness  upon  my  bright  river,  golden  still, 
in  the  autumn  noonday.  A-  light-hearted  child,  should  I 
ever  play  upon  its  banks  again  ?  Echo  answered  "  again  ? " 
— my  heart  responded — never,  any  more. 

I  was  closing  the  blinds  when  the  Ridgely  carriage 
passed  with  the  Southern  youth  and  Mary  Kingswell,  loung- 
ing gracefully  on  the  cushions.  Her  fair  face  was  shaded  by 
a  jaunty  hat,  and  he  held  her  hand  in  his.  Why  not  ? 
— she  was  his  cousin.     Though  somehow,  the  sight  hurt 

2 


2G  THE  MONTANAS. 

me,  T  shrank  back  peevishly,  closing  the  blinds  with  a  snap 
of  the  clasp,  and  retumed  to  mv  father's  room. 

There  I  found  Mr.  Kingswell  sitting  by  his  side.  I  knew 
my  father  had  sent  Eleanor  to  his  place  of  business  for  him, 
though  I  had  not  expected  such  promptitude  in  answer  to 
the  summons. 

"You  are  not  well,  Mr.  Montana,"  he  said  kindly,  wiping 
from  his  brow  the  perspiration  that  chill  autumn  day,  for 
he  had  come  hastily,  not  knowing  what  need  there  might  be. 

"  Xo,  no — it  is  almost  over,"  answered  my  father  com- 
posedly. "  I  sent  for  you,  sir,  because  I  know  you  are  the 
friend  of  the  widow  and  orphan.  I  am  sure  you  will  com- 
ply with  my  request.  I  have  a  brother  in  the  South  ; 
there  is  no  kindly  tie  between  us.  For  myself  I  will  ask 
nothing,  but  when  all  is  ended  for  me  here,  you  will  write 
to  him  ;  will  you  not,  in  behalf  of  my  wdfe  and  daughter, 
solicit  from  him  a  home  which  I  shall  not  be  able  to  leave 
them  ?  There  is  a  mortcrajxe  on  this  cotlajje  which  would 
more  than  cover  what  it  would  bring  if  disposed  of  now. 
That  was  the  money  I  lost  in  my  last  unlucky  speculation. 
You  will  be  kind  enough  to  attend  to  the  sale  for  me  ;  there 
may  be  enough  left  to  pay  you  for  your  trouble ;  if  not, 
God  will  reward  you,  sir;  I  am  sure  of  it." 

"  You  trust  Him  then,"  said  Mr.  Kingswell,  searchingly. 
The  answer  came  tremulously  : 

"  Yes,  though  only  through  Christ's  mercy  have  I  hope." 

"  Who  of  us  dare  hope  for  pardon  on  the  score  of  our  own 
questionable  merit  ? "  said  Mr.  Kingswell  again,  with  trae  hu- 
mility. "  Trusting  and  feeling  this  as  you  do,  my  friend,  while 
you  hope  for  forgiveness  through  God's  great  mercy,  have  you 
shown  mercy  and  forgiveness  to  your  brother  ? — have  you 
left  any  evidence  that  he  was  pardoned ;  that  the  bitterness 
has  passed  away  from  your  spirit  ? — if  so,  ask  of  him  these 


THE  MONTANA  S.  27 

things  yourself.  I  will  transfer  your  messages,  verbal  or 
written,  to  Mr.  Clifford  Montana — whose  wife  was  one  of 
my  earliest  friends — through  my  nephew,  Clyde  Ingram, 
who  leaves  for  New  Orleans  to-morrow."  There  was  some 
pre-occupation  in  Mr.  Kingswell's  manner,  and  the  light  of 
far-off  memory  in  his  patient  eyes,  as  he  added : 

"  I  hope  you  will  rest  easy,  my  friend ;  I  will  arrange  all 
things  as  you  have  suggested."  He  took  my  father's  hand 
with  an  expression  almost  divine  resting  like  sunshine  on 
his  noble  face ;  he  held  it  in  that  strong  firm  clasp  which 
always  springs  spontaneously  from  great  hearts,  adding — 
"  You  will  try  and  write  your  brother,  if  only  a  few  words, 
will  you  not  ? " 

There  was  pleading  in  his  tones  now,  and  my  father  pro- 
mised; he  could  not  do  otherwise.  ^Vho  else  with  so  few 
words  could  have  effected  a  reunion  between  those  widely 
severed  hearts,  and  how  was  he  able  so  to  do  ?  Only  be- 
cause there  was  that  in  his  daily  life  which  convinced  men, 
thinking  men  like  my  father,  of  an  eloquent  fact  :  he  was 
striving  humbly  and  patiently  to  do  God's  work  on  earth  ; 
every  word  and  deed  gave  strength  to  the  conviction.  From 
his  apparent  earnest  desire  to  do  good  to  his  fellow-man, 
came  the  power  with  which  he  swayed  my  father. 

lie  left  us  then ;  with  my  father's  last  remnant  of  strength 
he  wrote  the  letter  to  my  uncle.  When  he  had  finished,  a 
great  peace  came  to  him,  and  never  left  him  any  more — the 
issue  was  with  God. 

Later  in  the  afternoon  Mrs.  Kingswell  came,  taking  from 
her  carriage — the  same  carriage  in  which  Clyde  Ingram  had 
ridden  out  with  her  daughter  at  noon-time — a  basket  filled 
with  delicacies  to  which  we  were  unaccustomed ;  for  our 
home  fare  was  very  frugal.  With  her  own  hands  she  made 
the  tea,  and  beguiled  my  father  into  drinking  a  cup,  which 


28  THE  MONTANA  S. 

refreshed  him  very  much.  WTien  she  took  her  leave,  carry- 
ing ^yith  her  the  letter  which  her  husband's  nephew  was  to 
bear  with  him  on  his  homeward  journey  to  the  far  South, 
there  were  many  sunbeams  glistening  in  the  room,  which  I 
had  not  observed  at  her  coming.  My  poor  father  looked 
after  her,  a  bright,  sparkling  tear  fell  on  my  hand,  holding 
his  own,  as  he  exclaimed : 

"  She  is  one  of  God's  angels  of  mercy  !  Oh  !  if  her  arms 
were  long  enough  to  embrace  all  she  loves,  they  would  be 
thrown  around  the  whole  world.  How  many  come  within 
the  range  of  her  care  it  is  impossible  to  know,  for  she  goes 
everywhere  ;  her  husband's  means,  without  limit,  are  at  her 
disposal.  Many  among  the  poor  in  this  quiet  town  can  at- 
test her  goodness.  Some  that  lie  cold  on  yonder  hill  died 
blessing  her ;  many  more  live,  saved  by  her  timely  aid  and 
kindness." 

Day  after  day  she  came  and  ministered.  Night  after 
night  I  sat  looking  out  sorrowfully  at  my  pitying  stars, 
and  the  pale,  cold  moonbeams  as  they  gathered  around  the 
New  Hampshire  hills,  around  the  sheltering  house  of 
Ridgely  ;  its  terraces  sloping  down  to  where  the  river,  not 
golden  now,  glided  slow  and  grey  between  its  locks  and 
falls,  until  the  liquid  track  was  lost  in  mist  and  foam  below ; 
— thinking  of  this  death. 

It  came  at  last.  My  father  was  borne  along  the  shadowy 
road — shut  in  from  our  sight  by  the  new-made  grave  in  the 
cemetery  just  above  Ridgely.  I  kept  ceaseless  vigil  at  my 
mother's  side,  until  she  too,  worn  by  anxiety  and  sorrow, 
sank  to  rest. 

After  that  I  knew  no  more,  for  so  long  it  seemed ;  and 
even  now,  as  I  look  back  to  that  dark  time,  the  events  are 
confused.  Of  my  mother's  going  to  sleep  one  cold,  grey 
night,  when  there  were  no  stars  shining ;  no  music  in  the 


THE  MONT  ANAS.  29 

roar  of  the  nisliing  river — going  to  sleep  very  soundly,  while 
\  watched — I  have  an  indistinct  remembrance.  Then  of 
Mrs.  Kings  well  coming  at  morning  trying  to  arouse  her, 
talking  meanwhile  to  some  strange  lady  about  me,  and  how 
she  said  "  Poor  stricken  child  "  as  she  took  my  hand  away, 
for  it  was  locked  tightly  in  the  cold  death-gTasp  of  my  mo- 
ther. I  seemed  to  hear  the  crashing,  too,  of  the  great  door 
of  destiny  which  shut  me  out  into  the  world  of  loneliness 
and  orphanhood. 

After  that  the  weeks  seemed  a  blank,  for  I  struggled  with 
brain-fever,  and  it  left  me  no  power  to  remember.  I  am 
very  thankful  the  sorrow  of  that  summer  season  has  not 
lingered  with  me  ;  for  oftenest  when  I  go  back  to  the  days 
when  I  lived  with  my  parents  in  the  cottage  at  Way  burn, 
the  same  blue  sky  is  over  them,  and  at  nightfall  I  looked 
to  see  the  old  stars  shining,  with  their  gentle,  then  sorrow- 
ful radiance.  I  can  recall  too,  the  dark,  earnest  eyes  of  the 
handsome  youth,  who  even  then  looked  into  the  deeps  of 
my  soul  with  the  eyes  of  destiny.  At  other  periods  the 
sky  of  memory  is  overclouded ;  then  I  see  only  two  graves 
and  a  lot  cast  amid  the  richer  flowers  of  a  southern  land. 
Flowers  that  blossomed  brightly  once.  Now  they  will 
bloom  no  more ;  for  a  deluge  of  blood  has  swept  them 
away.  With  hearts  young  and  warm  and  brave,  which,  too, 
have  sunk  beneath  thy  crimson  tides,  O  revolution  ! 

Can  it  be  that  upon  the  darkness  which  shrouds  their 
last  sleep,  a  nation's  stars  refuse  to  shine  ? 

Aye  !  but  God's  stars  do  not  withhold  their  radiance,  and 
I  will,  of  many,  keep  bright  and  glowing  the  memory 
— for  I  loved  them — still  love  them — and  feel  assured 
that  he  is  able,  and  will  awaken  them  to  all  the  beatitudes 
of  a  perfect  peace. 


80  THE  'MONT AN  AS. 

CHAPTER   III. 

"Oh  1  there  are  tones  and  looks  tliat  dart 
An  instant  i^unshine  through  the  heart; 
As  if  the  soul  that  minute  caufrht 
Some  treasure  it  through  life  had  sought." 

MOOBE. 

A  GREAT  blank  succeeds  in  memory ;  the  sky  of  stars  and 
river  gliding  goldenly  under  the  bright  morning  and  calmly 
under  the  clear  arching  noonday.  An  overwhelming  con- 
sciousness of  desolation  succeeded  the  long  journey  which 
I  made  in  company  with  Mrs.  Montana,  who  I  could 
scarcely  realize  w^as  my  uncle's  wife.  On  arriving  at  her 
magnificent  home  I  was  ill  again  for  a  long  time ;  when 
convalescence  came  lingeringly,  it  was  diflBcult  to  grow 
familiar  wdth  my  new  surroundings. 

Every  tie  binding  me  to  the  old  life  seemed  utterly 
broken.  I  was  sensible  through  the  misty  dimness  of  the 
presence  of  many  who  were  kind  to  me ;  but  my  poor 
heart  was  dumb  as  my  lips,  and  made  no  response  to  any 
save  the  lady  who  had  taken  my  hand  from  a  dead  mo- 
ther's clasp — it  seemed  to  me — ages  before. 

Among  the  visions  which  floated  up  in  the  strange  be- 
wilderment, there  was  one  mth  form  and  curls  that  clus- 
tered like  morning  light  about  the  beautiful  head  ;  a  sweet 
face  bent  over  me  often,  and  cherry  lips  called  me  sister; 
but  as  yet  I  could  make  no  answer,  the  old  wounds  were 
bleeding  too  profusely. 

One  afternoon  I  seemed  to  waken,  soul  and  sense,  as 
from  a  long,  restless  lethargy.  Windows  were  wide  open, 
and  the  delicious  aroma  of  a  thousand  flowers  came  to  me 
like  the  resurrection  of  buried  summers.  I  could  only 
weep  in  unison  when  I  heard  the  fall  of  a  fountain  near 
with  a  liquid  murmur  like  trickling  tears.     I  was  puzzled : 


THE  MONT  AN  AS.  31 

could  it  be  that  I  had  slept  while  that  long  winter  of  grief 
had  passed  mto  the  spring?  While  I  mused,  a  face— the 
face  of  my  morning  dream  at  Wayburn— appeared,  to  look, 
as  he  thought,  upon  my  unconscious  rest.  At  this  junc- 
ture a  bright-eyed  mulatto  girl  came  from  her  post  of  duty 
to  inquire  if  I  wanted  anything.  I  did  not ;  nothing  that 
she  could  give  me :  I  only  wanted  to  think  and  to  be  rid 
of  her  presence.  I  dismissed  her  by  saying  "  my  head 
ached,  and  I  should  prefer  to  be  alone." 

"  Lord  bless  you,  Miss,  I  wouldn't  dare  to  leave  you  for 
a  single  minnit;  Miss  Stanley  rode  down  to  town  with 
young  Mars,  and  she  gave  me  my  orders  to  stay  right  here 
in  this  room  until  she  came  back." 

I  was  about  to  inquire  who  Miss  Stanley  was,  when  the 
lady  herself  looked  in  at  the  open  door.  She  wore  a  jaunty 
riding-cap  of  blue  velvet  plumed  with  white,  and  her  curls 
rippled  in  waves  of  gold  upon  the  rich  blue  of  her  habit. 
With  light  footstep  she  came  to  where  the  mulatto  stood, 
and  spoke  softly  in  tones  as  silvery  a^  the  murmuring 
fountain  without :  "  Has  she  been  quiet  since  I  left,  Haw- 
sey,  and  have  you  waited  upon  her  well  ?  Are  you  sure  ? " 
she  added,  surrendering  to  the  girl  her  whip,  gauntlets,  etc. 
"  Yes,  marm,"  was  the  creature's  only  response  to  the  seve- 
ral inquiries  of  her  mistress. 

Stanley  retu-ed  briefly  to  her  own  apartment  for  the 
purpose  of  changing  her  costume  ;  she  reappeared  clad  in  a 
dress  of  flowing  white.  Coming  to  my  side  as  I  lay  with 
my  thm  hand  shading  my  tear-wet  eyes,  she  kissed  me, 
supposing  me  to  be  asleep.  The  little  caress  thrilled  me 
through  and  through;  I  clasped  her  in  my  arms;  my 
heart  had  broken  the  chains  of  its  stern  silence ;  hence- 
forth, from  that  day  and  hour,  she  was  my  best-beloved, 
my  soul  sister. 


32  THE  'MOITTANAS. 

From  her  lips  I  learned  that  she  was  my  cousin,  the 
dauofhter  of  Uncle  Clittbrd  Montana,  She  had  one  bro- 
ther,  with  whom  she  had  ridden  that  afternoon ;  she  called 
him  Ray ;  and  another,  who,  though  no  relative,  was  in 
truth  all  of  a  brother  and  more :  her  mother's  stepson.  I 
asked  her  mother's  former  name.     Edith  Ingram. 

I  lay  quite  still  now,  holding  her  hand  in  my  own,  which 
trembled  a  little,  from  physical  weakness  of  course !  Edith 
Ingram,  the  face  I  had  seen  at  my  window,  then,  was  no 
dream.  The  odor  of  jdowers,  and  murmur  of  the  fountain ; 
the  soft  luxurious  atmosphere ;  the  almost  fabulous  splen- 
dor of  the  room  in  which  I  lay,  was  so  strano^e !  Yet  the 
break  in  my  life  was  still  yawning  widely  at  my  side ;  a 
gulf  never  to  be  recrossed.  But  the  flower-strewn  vistas 
of  a  new  life  were  open  to  me — outstretching  where  ?  Ah, 
who  could  foresee  that ! 

I  closed  my  eyes,  still  holding  those  tiny  hands  of  Stan- 
ley, saw  ray  stars  arise  from  that  long  night  of  pain,  count- 
ed the  sands  upon  far-away  shores  that  1  had  left,  and  the 
youth  who  came  adown  the  stream  in  the  morning  light ; 
saw  my  golden  river  gliding — gliding  as  it  chimed  its  rip- 
ple with  the  murmuring  fountain,  flowing  outward  until  it 
seemed  to  mingle  confasedly  with  the  roar  of  the  sea. 

All  these  things  were  present  with  me  often  ;  and  during 
that  tardy  convalescence  Stanley  was  beside  me  always. 
"When  I  was  strong  enough  to  walk,  Clyde  Ingram  came  to 
escort  me  below  stairs.  Upon  his  young  arm  I  leaned 
during  those  first  tottering  steps  about  the  beautiful  grounds 
of  Claremont.  He  had  adopted  a  singular  system  of  re 
taliation  for  the  hospitality  I  had  manifested  towards  him 
in  my  own  land.  I  saw  that  he  remembered  it ;  for  he 
really  seemed  to  take  pardonable  pleasure  in  thus  heaping 
coals  of  fire  on  the  defenceless  head  of  his  ancient  enemy. 


THE  MONTANAS.  33 

He  was  too  generous,  however,  to  vaunt  his  triumpli  in  my 
present  weak  state  of  mind  and  body  ;  that  would  not  have 
been  politic.  How  handsome  he  was  !  more  so,  even,  than 
I  remembered  him ;  and  the  light  of  genius,  grand  and  glo- 
rious, beamed  from  every  lineament  of  his  classic  face,  and 
burned  in  his  deep,  clear  eyes.  Afterwards,  whenever  I 
walked,  Clyde  or  Ra3m3ond  was  at  my  side.  That  summer 
was  like  a  wandering  amid  the  flowers  of  fairy-land.  Old 
misunderstandings,  arising  from  prejudice,  were  foro-otten, 
and  oh  !  we  were  all  so  happy  together.  In  the  autumn  we 
separated ;  Stanley  and  myself  were  sent  away  to  school, 
Raymond  and  Clyde  went  to  a  German  university. 

We  met  not  again  for  four  years ;  years  of  study,  of  men- 
tal and  physical  development  for  all  of  us ;  to  Clyde  and 
Raymond,  years  of  classic  research  amid  time-stained  re- 
cords of  the  ancient  masters  for  treasures  that  other  years 
could  not  dim.  Meantime,  Stanley  and  myself,  busy  in 
acquiring  more  superficial  accomplishments,  thought  most 
of  their  return. 

To  Claremont  those  four  springs  came  soft  and  dreamy  as 
the  first  one  I  remember  there.  The  summers,  too,  glided 
by  with  calm  quietness  as  by-gone  summers  at  Waybum 
were  wont  to  do.  Autumn  came  gently  to  the  last  of  these. 
October  had  kindled  her  fires  in  the  dark  line  of  forest  ris- 
ing high  into  the  lurid  sky,  tinged  with  the  gleam  of 
boughs  glancing  brightly  in  the  red  sunshine ;  rich  flowers, 
preceding  the  fall,  blossomed  everywhere.  The  birds  sang 
gaily  as  in  spring-time  ;  voices  came  softly  from  beyond 
the  grey  expanse  of  sea,  so  plaintive  and  subdued,  they 
seemed  the  echo  of  golden  harps  swept  by  the  fingers  of 
unforo-otten  dead. 

This  was  the  season  in  which  Clyde  and  Raymond  came 
back.     I  had  parted  very  tenderly  from  my  young  cavalier 

2* 


34  THE  MONTANAS. 

four  years  p^e^'ious.  He  had  told  me,  with  a  look  in  his 
great,  earnest  eyes  which  I  shall  never  forget,  "how  he 
would  miss  me  when  the  sea  rolled  between  us."  I  had 
treasured  those  words  till  the  coming  Lack.  Now  they 
were  returned,  cousin  Ra}Tnond — our  frank,  handsome 
Ray — had  taken  me  into  his  arms  and  kissed  me  again  and 
again ;  Stanley  and  Clyde  greeted  each  other,  meantime, 
no  less  warmly,  yet  when  the  latter  came  to  me  holding  out 
his  arms  I  could  not  for  my  life  have  gone  into  his  embrace. 
There  was  something  in  the  face  and  manner  of  the  tall, 
elegant  young  man,  so  removed,  so  different  from  the  boy 
with  whom  I  had  parted,  abashed,  I  shrank  back  in  silence. 
The  same  earnest  eyes  pleaded,  "  Have  you  no  greeting  for 
me  ?  "  Only  for  an  instant,  then  the  look  of  surprised  in- 
quiry passed  ;  then  one  of  pain  was  succeeded  by  an  expres- 
sion of  wounded  pride.  He  glanced  at  Raymond — his 
face  flushed,  then  grew  white.  Well  I  knew  how  his  sensi- 
tive nature  had  withdrawn  into  its  own  grand  proportions, 
though  these  mute  evidences  were  all  that  he  gave  of  hav- 
inor  felt  a  slight  that  cut  him  to  the  soul.  This  was  not  our 
first  painful  misunderstanding — would  to  Heaven  it  had 
been  our  last ! 

Winter  came  and  passed,  just  touching  with  frosty  finger 
the  flowers  and  grasses  ;  but  the  ice-king  found  no  welcome 
in  this  balmy  tropical  clime  w^hen  he  would  have  gil'ded  it 
about  with  frozen  chains. 

It  was  morning,  dewy  and  crisp,  in  the  spring  succeed- 
ing. How  fragrant  the  aureole  breath ;  how  the  amber 
sunshine  wrapped  us  in  its  folds  as  we  stood  in  the  grand 
arcade  of  our  Southern  homestead  waiting — Stanley  and  I, 
patiently  as  even  the  most  exacting  might  expect  us  to  do, 
while  holding  in  strictest  remembrance  certain  innuendoes 
which  a  gentleman,  Clyde  Ingram — of  whose  tardiness  we 


THE  MONTANAS,  35 

were  the  amiable  victims  in  the  present  instance — ^had  cast 
at  us  in  days  that  were  gone  for  delinquencies  of  like  nature ; 
which  even  those  most  addicted  to  fault-finding  could  but 
decide  was  not  a  circumstance  compared  to  the  delay  which 
had  kept  us  in  an  urbane  state  of  "  durance  vile  "  for  the 
space  of  half  an  hour;  durmg  which  probationary  season 
we  had  paid  due  court  to  sundry  reflections  and  refractions 
of  our  persons  in  the  mirror  of  the  escritoire ;  each  suc- 
ceeding glance  only  serving  to  confirm  the  original  impres- 
sion that  no  improvement  was  necessary.  Being  thus 
fortified  with  the  opinions  of  two  ladies  of  taste  and  judg- 
ment, we  cajoled  ourselves  and  each  other  into  the  belief 
that  we  were  looking  quite  as  well  as  it  was  possible  to  do, 
the  style  of  each  subdued  by  a  drab  travelling  suit  surmount- 
ed by  a  hat  of  similar  hue,  when  Clyde  made  his  smiling 
appearance,  announcing  his  entire  readiness  to  depart. 

The  astounding  fact  would  under  other  circumstances 
have  called  down  upon  his  guilty  head  a  tirade  of  raillery 
— -An  indulgence  quite  dignified  and  fashionable  in  these 
days.  I  cannot  tell  how  it  happened,  the  aforesaid  scolding 
Clyde  did  not  receive  upon  that  day  or  any  other ;  for  each 
had  its  own  record  of  such  enjoyments  on  his. part,  yet  I 
am  sure  he  remembered  gratefully  long  afterwards  that  he 
was  minus  one  tongue-lashing.  Perhaps  it  was  because  we 
knew  he  had  been  in  Aunt  Edith's  room  in  close  conference 
with  her,  for  we  saw  tears  upon  her  cheeks  when  she  came 
out  to  us  ;  scarcely  less  dear  than  her  own  manly  boy  was 
to  her  this  son  of  his  dead  father. 

Then  came  the  adieux  upon  which  I  will  not  linger; 
suffice  it  to  say  Stanley  and  I  were  in  imminent  danger  of 
having  our  self-sustained  verdict  reversed ;  for  a  gushing 
shower  of  drops  had  almost  washed  the  roses  from  our 
cheeks  ere  we  became  conscious  that  this  time  Clyde  was 


36  THE  MONTANA  S. 

the  martyr,  not  the  patient  one  we  had  been  either,  as  he 
stood  tapping  his  patent  leathers  with  a  spray  of  catalpa, 
and  whistling  an  air  from  Lucia  de  Lammermoor,  in  the 
interval  of  directing  servants  who  were  loading  the 
bao;o;ao-e. 

I  speak  advisedly ;  for  so  ponderous  a  quantity  of  lug- 
gage rarely  falls  to  the  honest  portion  of  two  unpretending 
young  misses  of  the  modest  dimensions  of  Stanley  and  my- 
self. Finally  the  last  article  was  safely  deposited ;  from  the 
two-story  trunk,  in  a  capacious  corner  of  which  we  might 
have  buried  ourselves  after  the  capricious  fashion  of  Ginevra 
— should  fancy  have  dictated  so  grave  a  course — to  the 
brown  paper  parcel  quite  Dickens-onian  in  appearance,  con- 
taining sandwiches  and  other  elements  of  comfort  wrapped 
in  a  snowy  napkin  which  peeped  suggestively  from  the 
willow  basket  which  Stanley  persistently  refused  to  abandon, 
influenced  by  private  injunctions  of  mine,  and  fortified  with 
a  colored  legion  headed  by  Aunt  Dinah,  who  I  think 
religiously  believed  that  travellers'  salvation  depends  upon 
sandwiches.  I  am  furthennore  assured,  upon  the  best 
evidence,  that  the  old  lady's  idea  of  the  peace  and  comfort 
of  heaven  lies  in  the  hope  that  she  may  find  plenty  of 
sandwiches  there.  She  had  been  the  faithful  slave  of  the 
Ingi'ams  during  a  long  lifetime;  yet  I  do  not  believe  I 
should  be  doing  her  injustice  to  assert  that  should  a  shadow 
of  doubt  regarding  the  truth  of  these  ^^ews,  in  strict  adher- 
ence to  which  her  head  had  grown  white,  cross  her  mind, 
she  would  prefer  remaining  for  ever  within  the  immediate 
vicinage  of  these  creature  comforts,  to  being  emancipated 
in  a  region  where  they  were  not. 

Our  cavalier  rebelled  at  the  sight  of  the  basket ;  but  all 
his  protestations  and  the  most  comforting  assurance  of 
cofi'ee  by  the  way,  could  not  annihilate  one  of  Aunt  Dinah's 


THE  MONTANAS.  37 

blunt  straie^litforward  aroniments  in  favor  of  the  sandwiches : 
so  he  yielded  reluctantly  and  came  back  to  where  Aunt 
Edith  stood.  After  pressing  the  last  kiss  upon  her  lips, 
he  entreated  her  again  and  again  to  take  good  care  of 
herself — she  was  not  so  well  as  she  had  been — and  expressed 
an  ardent  hope  to  find  her  better  on  his  return ;  a  hope 
which  found  a  dim  sad  echo  in  my  heart,  for  I  had  a  pre- 
sentiment #hat  in  this  world  Aunt  Edith  would  never  be 
strong  and  well  any  more. 

"I  will  not  forget,"  he  said,  in  his  deep,  rich  voice, 
"  what  you  have  said  to  me  this  morning,  mother ;  I  shall 
treasure  your  words — I  will  take  my  place  in  the  world's 
front  ranks,  and  cause  you  yet  to  feel  that  your  tender  care 
of  my  infant  years  was  not  misplaced." 

He  spoke  these  words  with  his  strong  arm  around  the 
frail  form  of  the  woman  who  had  held  him  in  her  true 
heart,  and  loved  him  as  her  own ;  somehow  he  seemed  the 
only  tie  between  buried  years  and  a  love  whose  loss  she 
mourned  still — a  tenure  yet  so  strong ;  though  the  mists  of 
another  separate  life  had  fallen,  the  radiance  was  not  wholly 
dimmed.  A  fitful  gleam  of  the  old  fire  was  in  her  heart, 
and  the  light  in  her  eyes  was  for  him  alone ;  Stanley  and  I 
had  no  share  in  it;  He  saw  it  too  and  felt  it,  for  he  caught 
her  in  his  arms  again,  as  though  he  would  keep  always  the 
love  that  was  pouring  out  its  last  riches  upon  us  on  earth. 
But  ah !  the  angel  love  that  would  be  ours  for  ever ! 

Perhaps  it  was  the  electric  power  of  this  sympathy — ^my 
part  of  a  common  grief — a  joint  sorrow,  that  caused  the 
touch  of  Clyde's  hand  to  thrill  me  as  he  handed  me  after 
Stanley  into  the  carriage,  and  took  his  place  beside  me.  I 
never  have  seen  hun  look  as  he  did  then.;  the  dim  shadow 
of  future  years  was  in  his  deep  eyes ;  a  sure  foreboding  of 
impending  bereavement  shone  from  out  their  depths.     He 


38  •  THE  MONTANAS. 

neither  saw  nor  felt  our  presence — of  course  we  chose  not  to 
remind  him  of  facts  so  apparent — only  waited  with  an  un- 
defined perception  that  a  world  of  ambition  was  belted  by 
that  little  space  of  thought. 

As  we  passed  the  curve  in  the  road,  and  the  trees  which 
one  by  one  like  sUent  sentinels  of  the  morning  hid  Clare- 
mont — dear,  lovely  Claremont,  and  the  pale  spiritual  mother- 
face  from  our  view — the  face  that  had  shone  as  the  sun  in 
his  childhood,  we  ceased  to  remember  it  would  not  always 
shine  for  us.  When  the  full  glory  of  the  day  burst  upon 
us,  the  shadow  was  gone ;  for  youth  is  buoyant  and  san- 
guine, prolific  of  many  sources  of  enjoyment.  We  turned 
our  faces  towards  the  city,  whose  spires  stretched  heaven- 
ward to  the  God  who  looked  upon  it,  all  astir  in  the  morn- 
ing light;  and  the  blue  gulf  stretching  far  away  to  its 
ocean  boundary,  the  river  with  its  myriad  fleets  paling  in 
the  sweet  May  sunshine — heard  the  drowsy  murmur  of  the 
breeze,  the  hum  of  bees,  and  the  distant  song  of  the  lark 
from  groves  of  palmetto  and  larch,  reaching  a  dim  wilder- 
ness of  sea-ffreen  fi-om  the  east  windows  of  Claremont  to 
the  gate  of  Sunrise. 

Crushing  the  shells  of  the  beautiful  lake-shore  road 
beneath  the  wheels  of  our  ponderous  carriage,  we  soon 
found  ourselves  upon  Canal  street,  incorporated  with  vehi- 
cles uncompromising  as  our  own.  We  waited  some  time 
in  front  of  my  uncle's  bank,  surrounded  by  the  tumultuous 
din,  ere  the  august  dignitary  made  his  appearance.  During 
years  of  Southern  life,  he  had  not  become  a  devotee  at  the 
court  of  its  customs,  or  learned  to  take  things  easy.  At 
length  he  came  out,  a  pen  behind  his  ear,  spectacles  upon 
his  head,  his  hand  full  of  exchanges  which  he  transferred  to 
Clyde  for  our  joint  benefit.  He  then  bid  us  a  hasty  good- 
bv,  adding  the  pleasing  information  in  anything  but  an 


THE  MONTANA S.  39 

amiable  tone — Raymond  tired  of  waiting  for  us,  and  had 
gone  somewhere,  he  knew  not  where ;  but  of  one  thing  he 
was  certain,  we  should  miss  the  train  if  we  went  to  look 
for  him.  He  thought,  however,  it  would  be  well  enough 
to  call  at  the  Saint  Charles,  then  drive  speedily  to  the 
depot,  as  though  such  a  thing  were  possible,  until  we  had 
been  emancipated  from  that  thronged  thoroughfare — Canal 
street.  We  did  not  find  Raymond ;  we  scarcely  succeeded 
in  reaching  our  destination,  having  girded  on  an  armor  of 
the  defensive  and  "  run  the  blockade,"  successfully  edging 
our  way  through  jostling  crowds,  almost  deafened  by  the 
sounds  of  preparation  for  departure,  undergoing  the  neces- 
sary preliminaries — passing  through  the  routine  with  the 
pleasant  consciousness  of  having  left  one  of  our  party 
behind. 

Scarcely  had  we  taken  our  seats,  when  Ray  sauntered 
into  the  car  whistling  with  that  air  of  careless  abandon, 
half  reckless,  half  self-dependent,  which  sits  so  gracefully 
upon  Southern  youth  to  the  manner  born.  His  face  was 
radiant  beneath  the  leghorn  hat,  sitting  jauntily  upon  his 
curls.  He  crushed  the  tendrils  of  my  hand  in  his  firai 
grasp,  and  kissed  Stanley  vigorously,  as  a  brother  might  be 
expected  to  do  such  a  sister. 

"  Just  in  time,"  he  exclaimed,  as  the  sharp  click  of  the 
engine  drowned  the  thunder-tones  in  which  the  conductor 
vaunted  to  us  the  startling  fact,  that  we  were  "  all  aboard  1 " 
the  clang  of  the  bell  reiterating  an  assertion  which  was 
barely  a  verity,  so  far  as  our  party  was  concerned. 

Raymond  remarked  how  very  narrowly  the  pompous  in- 
dividual in  shining  hat  had  escaped  telling  a  fib.  Then 
we  all  laughed  merrily  as  participants  in  the  earnest  drama 
of  2l  frantic  rush  could  laugh,  whose  triumph  was  so  hardly 
won.     Our  mirth  was  succeeded  by  a  pensive  quietness ;  as 


40  THE  MONTANAS. 

the  train  crept  softly  through  the  suburbs,  we  with  one 
accord  turned  to  take  a  last  view  of  Claremont. 

The  May  day  was  very  full  of  memories  of  our  days  to- 
gether there,  never  to  be  forgotten  ;  there  were  long  loiter- 
ings  upon  the  bright  green  hillsides,  and  flower  gatherings 
in  the  valley  sunshine;  there  were  hand-clasps  remembered, 
and  words  of  kindness  from  those  who  had  so  brightened 
my  orphan  life,  treasured  in  that  season  during  which  we 
four  had  lived  and  loved  together ;  to  whose  dewy  morning 
time,  weary  and  awed  by  the  greatness  of  the  after-pilgrim- 
age, we  turned  so  often  back  from  the  dusty  highway,  upon 
which  a  burning  sun  of  actualities  had  risen  to  that  period, 
when  with  fresh  hopes  and  fresh  hearts  we  enjoyed  hfe- 
times  in  the  liofhtness  of  one  summer's  radiance  and  the 
fragrance  of  its  flowers. 

On  and  on  we  passed,  more  swiftly  now ;  and  when  the 
sun  of  that  day  of  our  departure  from  Claremont  was 
merged  in  noon's  fierce  heat,  the  loved  home  with  its  groves 
of  bright- winged  birds,  its  shadow}^  walks,  and  the  lonely 
mother's  eye  wandering  through  them ;  the  city  with  its 
towering  spires  and  gilded  domes ;  the  river  with  its 
painted  fleets,  and  gulf,  whose  mists  were  all  cleared  away, 
blazing  like  a  silver  sheet  passed  to  the  ocean — all  these 
which  we  saw  at  morning  were  soon  far  behind  us,  so  we 
cast  dreaminsf  to  the  winds  and  surrendered  ourselves  to 
the  pleasures  of  the  moment.  The  monotony  was  varied 
by  snatches  of  sweet  carolling  from  Stanley,  interlarded 
with  fragmentary  bursts  of  eloquence  from  Raymond ; 
varied  by  an  occasional  recitation  from  myself,  who,  for  the 
most  part,  was  delighted  to  play  auditor  while  Clyde  re- 
called some  trifling  though  interesting  incident  of  their 
life  beyond  the  seas.  I  was  very  often  interrupted  in  my 
quiet  enjoyment,  to  parry  for  Clyde,  who  was  shrinking  and 


THE  MONTANAS.  41 

"sensitive,  some  acrimonious  shaft  aimed  by  Ray  in  his 
merriment ;  thougli  oftentimes  for  hours  together  my  stra- 
tegy was  held  in  strictest  requisition  to  defend  my  unoffend- 
ing self  against  some  merciless  prank  perpetrated  by  this 
common  enemy  of  our  peace. 

How  charming  we  found  the  little  incidents  of  travel, 
including  sandwiches,  lemon  pies,  etc. ;  and  the  strangest 
thing  of  all,  was  to  observe  how  much  Clyde  enjoyed  them, 
notwithstanding  his  torrent  of  opposition,  which  Stanley 
and  I  had  bravely  stemmed  in  order  to  bring  them.  But 
then  he  could  not  have  heard  Aunt  Dinah  mutter  in  her 
triumph,  at  the  close  of  the  successful  contest  with  Mars 
Clyde,  the  very  plaids  of  her  turban  starting  from  the 
fabric,  and  quivering  with  separate  wrath  : 

"  Sense  he  done  been  of  to  dat  German  Varsity  and 
larned  to  be  so  grand  as  to  do  widout  etin'  hisself,  he  thinks 
everbody  else  ort  to  do  it  to.  Them  are  chillen  haint  been 
raised  to  no  sich  notions  ;  lor'  knows  ole  Dinah  hopes  de'U 
never  git  no  farrin'  larnin'  in  their  blessed  heads  ef  it  makes 
'em  kind  o'  crazy  like." 

No !  he  could  not  have  heard  at  the  time  this  aside  of 
the  old  lady's,  or,  in  very  respect  to  her  memory,  he  would 
surely  have  desisted  ;  if  not  in  consideration  for  our  pam- 
pered stomachs,  at  least  in  charity  to  himself. 

And  thus  time  passed  during  the  pleasant  days  of  our 
journey  until  the  mornings,  with  quick,  sharp  breath  and 
atmosphere  altogether  new  and  strange  about  us,  proclaimed 
that  we  were  in  a  northern  land^the  land  of  bright  rivers 
and  calm  skies ;  of  brisk,  busy  life  for  old  and  young ;  of 
patient  work  alike  for  all. 

Our  pathway  lay  for  miles  along  the  shores  of  Seneca 
Lake. 

"  This,"  said  Clyde,  "  is  the  lake  storied  in  song.     I  re- 


42  THE  MOXTANAS. 

member,  during  a  season  north  at  my  uncle's,  hearing  a 
strange  legend  of  this  little  body  of  water.  Owing  to  its 
cold,  crystal  purity,  which  preserves  bodies  from  decompo- 
sition, its  dead  arc  never  raised^  but  held  firmly  in  those 
pristine  deeps  awaiting  the  final  resurrection.  In  direct 
contrariety  to  scriptural  affirmation,  *  Dust  thou  art,  to  dust 
thou  shalt  return.' " 

"Which  assertion  is  verified  in  few  instances,"  Rapnond 
answered ;  "  for  illustration :  do  you  remember,  Clyde, 
what  we  were  told  by  that  old  monk  when  we  visited  a  con 
vent  on  the  Seine  ?  He  said  the  poorer  classes  of  the  Pa- 
risians were  permitted  to  rent  graves  for  their  dead  only 
during  the  space  of  three  years;  at  tlfe  expiration  the 
bodies  were  exhumed  to  give  place  to  others.  In  those 
long  contested  battles  during  the  Napoleonic  confiict  which 
convulsed  all  Europe  thousands  were  left  to  blanch  upon 
the  field  unburied." 

"  God  grant  the  red  hand  of  war  may  never  fall  upon  our 
nation,"  exclaimed  Stanley,  fer\'ently.  From  the  depths  of 
our  four  hearts  in  chorus  came  an  earnest  amen. 

We  fell  into  a  reverie  befitting  time  and  place.  We  saw 
the  sun  go  down  into  the  deeps,  smooth,  glassy,  and  dia- 
mond clear ;  it  seemed  as  if  no  storm  of  earth  could  ever 
mar  it,  or  even  the  tiniest  ripple  break  its  halcyon  calm ;  I 
thought  it  like  some  natures  whose  capacity  was  unrevealed, 
externally  placid,  yet  far  down  lay  power  strong  enough 
either  to  madden  or  destroy  while  thirsting  for  gifts  they 
never  seemed  to  care  for.  The  natures  that  are  always  mis- 
understood rarely  love,  because  ever  feared ;  the  natures 
which  never  appear  to  suffer,  yet  suffer  most.  Such  was 
Clyde  Ingram — our  brother  Clyde. 

That  sunset  was  like  the  waning  of  the  sun  of  some  gor- 
geous dream  !     Each  separate  beam  multiplied  by  a  hun- 


THE  MONT  ANAS.  43 

dred  others  upon  the  silver  surface,  until  the  face  of  the. 
deep  was  lighted  by  a  glow  of  crimson,  curling  into  waves 
of  molten  sapphire,  then  melting  away  into  mists  of  opal 
and  amethyst.  Ah  !  how  rarely  and  radiantly  beautiful  it 
was  under  the  enchanted  spell.  We  gazed  upon  the  pic- 
ture until  the  forms  of  the  trees  lengthened  and  the  shadows 
of  twilight  gathered  about  it ;  then  from  behind  those  same 
trees,  whose  proportions  in  the  still  gloaming  lay  dark  upon 
the  water,  the  bright  moon  of  May  rose  up  in  her  splendor, 
mirroring  palaces  of  amber  whose  tall  spires  glittered  and  qui- 
vered, broken  by  the  waves  in  the  sharp  breath  of  evening, 
growing  less  and  less  as  the  night  queen  climbed  higher  up  her 
ladder  of  stars,  until  at  last  the  shadow  of  summer,  of  wood- 
land, was  quite  gone  ;  then  there  was  only  the  moon  with 
her  nio-ht  train  full  orbed,  shining  from  the  heavens  and 
from  the  crystal  surface  of  the  deep. 

How  mute  were  the  spirits  of  the  morning  !  For  a  long 
time  silence  reigned  ahnost  audibly.  Stanley's  fair  brow 
rested  on  Ray's  shoulder,  and  moonbeams  were  playing 
with  her  bright  hair.  There  is  in  my  memory  to-day  a 
picture — that  summer  lake  and  sweet  moon  beaming  around 
above,  below,  and  the  strange  look  upon  Clyde's  face,  which 
I  did  not  rightly  interpret  then  nor  fully  understand  until 
years  had  dragged  by  their  slow  length  of  days  that  were 
each  burdened  with  the  anguish  of  a  fearful  mistake.  When 
he  turned  to  me,  holding  out  his  arm  in  intimation  that  I 
should  rest  as  Stanley  had  often  done  in  its  clasp,  I  thought 
he  only  did  so  from  pique  that  she  had  shown  this  prefer- 
ence for  Ray,  who  was  so  wont  to  prefer  him  to  her  bois- 
terous brother ;  so  I  turned  away  as  though  the  motion 
and  the  look  in  his  dark,  soul-full  eyes  was  unseen,  to  the 
landscape  dark  with  fir  and  hemlock,  for  we  had  left  the 
lake  with  its  miiTored  stars  and  summer  moonshine  far  be- 


44  THE  MONTANAS. 

hind  us.  I  drew  my  victorine  closer  about  me  and  shud- 
dered in  the  night  gloom.  I  might  have  seen  him  shudder, 
too,  if  I  had  not  felt  the  chill  of  other  memories  which  had 
their  birthplace  in  the  region  of  our  present  touring,  creep- 
ing into  my  heart.  Into  those  darker  musings  there  glided 
a  shadow,  one  which,  as  Dickens  would  say,  lay  on  my 
heart  with  no  dark  and  shuddering  chill,  but  was  cast  by  an 
object  in  itself  so  pure  and  holy  that  the  shade  seemed  only 
a  subdued  brightness  and  the  light  which  cast  it  a  glory. 
But  a  shadow  it  was,  whether  it  had  its  origin  in  fact  or 
only  in  my  thought — of  unrequited  love. 

Clyde  sat  wrapped  in  the  impenetrable  armor  of  reserve 
into  which  my  caprice  or  Stanley's  indiflference  had 
plunged  him,  looking  out  upon  gliding  forests  so  dark 
that  not  even  one  ray  of  a  May  moon's  brightness  could 
pierce  their  gloom,  with  a  far-off  gleam  on  his  fine  face, 
like  a  statue  of  the  old  time,  the  dim  light  from  car  lamps 
falling  in  spectral  glamour  upon  sleeping  forms  about  us. 
Stanley  too  was  sleeping,  smiling  through  her  dreams ;  the 
brightest  beams  gathering  where  she  sat,  and  wrapping  her 
with  a  chastened  glory  like  the  robes  of  the  redeemed. 

On  the  morrow  we  arrived  at  Waybum.  There,  half 
hid  by  the  vines,  was  the  cottage,  and  just  beyond  the  red 
square  brick  house,  with  dark  solemn  firs  dotting  the  ter- 
raced grounds ;  below,  the  town  outspread  with  its  neat 
yards  and  daintily  set  fencings ;  afar  off  the  New  Hamp- 
shire hills  with  agricultural  products  climbing  their  steep 
sides.  Everywhere  were  these  httle  white  nests  of  homes 
so  close  beside,  yet  each  eloquent  of  indi^dduality  and 
redolent  of  that  sweet  presence  without  which  the  most 
costly  and  elegant  structure  is  but  four  walls  and  a  ceil- 
ing. 

The  sun  was  hanging  on  a  sharp  spire  of  the  tall  church 


THE  MONT  AN  AS.  '  45 

balcony  when  our  train,  arrived,  passing  all  dusty  and 
panting  into  the  depot.  We  occupied  the  carriage  which 
we  found  awaiting  us,  and  were  soon  en  route  for  Mr. 
Kingswell's. 


CHAPTER  ly. 

"Know  then  this  truth  (enough  for  man  to  know), 
Virtue  alone  is  happiness  below." 

Pope's  Essay  ox  Mait. 

The  shadows  of  twilight  descending  tinted  into  flame  with 
rays  of  the  sinking  sun  of  the  far  away  South,  with  its 
groves  of  orange  and  palmetto,  had  enwrapped  Claremont 
in  their  misty  folds  when  we  came  in  this  same  twilight 
up  the  slope  to  Ridgely.  It  is  impossible  to  imagine  two 
localities  more  utterly  at  variance  in  point  of  style  than 
were  these  two.  Wayburn  and  its  vicinage  savored  of  the 
brisk  Northern  presence  which  creates  more  than  enjoys ; 
hospitality  is  regarded  in  the  light  of  social  duty  rather 
than  an  impulse.     The  atmosphere  was  one  of  business. 

Mr.  Kingswell  came  to  meet  us  down  the  tan-bark  walk 
with  its  neatly  shorn  sides — a  handsome  man  still ;  and 
there  was  in  his  greeting  such  brisk  heartiness  which  made 
us  feel  he  must  once  have  been  fiery  and  impetuous  Hke 
the  youth  in  whose  charge  we  repined  and  sufiFered.  We 
were  met  on  the  threshold  by  his  ladylike,  self-possessed 
wife,  who  did  the  honors  gravely  yet  cordially.  Her  kmd 
eyes  lingered  upon  my  face,  seeming  to  say,  "  You  have 
changed  a  great  deal;"  but  they  had  not;  they  looked 
exactly  as  on  the  morning  when  he  lighted  the  sweet 
torch  of  peace  which  illumined  the  mazes  of  the  estrange- 


46  THE  MONTANAS. 

ment  between  my  father  and  Uncle  Montana,  in  whose 
house  destiny  had  made  my  home  in  the  sunny  land  far 
away  from  old  scenes  and  friends. 

What  pleased  us  most  was  the  perfect  understanding 
existing  between  Clyde's  uncle  and  aunt,  manifest  in  many 
ways  beside  the  mute  suggestions  for  our  personal  com- 
fort. It  was  evident  to  us  that  between  these  two,  who 
had  loved  and  wed  in  youth,  there  was  but  one  heart; 
and  that  same  love-light  and  youth-light  was  on  their 
faces  still,  subdued  and  chastened,  the  after  radiance  which 
comes  when  the  stonn  and  conflict  with  the  world  had 
been  triumphantly  passed — this  calmness  the  victory. 
Stanley  and  I  made  this  disclosure  to  each  other  upon 
retiring  to  our  chamber  for  the  purpose  of  refreshing  our- 
selves with  bath  and  siesta,  being  weary  and  travel-worn 
with  the  long  journey;  which,  to  our  everlasting  credit  be 
it  said,  we  did  upon  that  occasion  with  remarkable  dis- 
patch, making  our  appearance  promptly  at  the  late  tea 
which  had  been  arranged  for  our  convenience.  We  found 
the  young  gents  on  hand  as  they  usually  were,  sitting  with 
father  and  dauorhter  within  the  radiance  of  the  home-light 
on  the  piazza. 

Mary  Kingswell  was  lovely ;  fair  like  Stanley,  with  the 
sweetest  face  it  has  ever  been  my  pleasure  to  see ;  there 
were  roses,  northern  roses,  upon  her  cheeks,  and  the  home- 
light  too  was  in  her  beautiful  eyes  as  she  came  forward  to 
greet  us  with  a  soft,  deprecating  grace  so  far  removed 
from  the  lansniishino:  hauteur  of  Southern  manners — mo- 
dest,  timid,  yet  there  was  earnest  truth  in  it. 

Raymond's  quick  eye  observed  it,  and  Stanley,  too,  with 
that  delicate  intuition  by  the  aid  of  which  we  recognise 
kindred  attributes,  saw  it  as  readily.  Conventionalism  is 
well  enough ;  there  are  many  persons  in  intercourse  with 


THE  MON TANAS.  47 

wliom  it  would  be  intense  pain  to  go  beyond  forms ;  they 
are  a  safeguard  in  many  instances,  a  refuge  from  the  ser- 
vile element  with  which  emancipated  minds  could  not  as- 
similate, any  more  than  a  ray  of  sunshine  could  be  a  part 
of  the  dusty  highway  it  warms  and  brightens.  The  puerile 
resort  to  these  to  disguise  native  deficiency ;  yet  true  charac- 
ter has  a  self-centred  sustaining  dignity  above  such  com- 
monplaces. It  towers  supreme,  lofty  in  the  consciousness 
of  man  or  womanhood,  far  removed  from  such  necessities. 
It  was  thus  in  this  instance,  ere  twelve  consecutive  sen- 
tences had  been  spoken  by  any  one  of  us,  Mary  had  taken 
her  place  in  our  four  lives — separately,  yet  relatively — an 
individual  though  a  joint  possession,  to  have  and  to  hold, 
to  joy  and  trusting  and  love  to  the  uttermost.  Grovelling 
spirits  cavil  because  unable  to  understand  that  mysterious 
system  of  blessed  recognition  which  binds  the  lofty  of  the 
earth  in  one  glorious  brother  and  sisterhood  ;  who  behold, 
flaming  in  the  higher  radiance,  signals  marking  God's 
chosen,  when  they  hear  the  mystic  watchword  spoken ; 
ties  grow  strong  in  one  short  hour,  as  though  riveted  with 
trust,  and  cemented  by  an  intercourse  of  years.  There  is 
in  truth  a  freemasonry  between  those  who  wear  the  insig- 
nia of  that  higher  life  of  the  soul ;  who  have  unfettered 
thought,  and  come  to  hold  converse  with  spirits  of  suWiraer 
truths  than  the  world  in  its  every-day  reaches  can  grasp  or 
fathom ;  who  look  upon  life  from  the  stand-point  of  a 
higher  purpose,  meaning  nothing  more  than  doing  God's 
work  on  earth,  with  a  patient,  steady  out-look  of  will  and 
energy,  creating  while  they  perform ;  thus  filling  full  the 
measure  of  each  day  with  good  deeds  and  generous  actions. 
The  kind  of  life  which  infuses  serene  content,  and  has  in 
it  something  of  the  spirit  of  the  Great  Master.  Thus  it 
was  in  this  family. 


48  THE  MONTANAS, 

When  we  sat  down  to  our  first  tea  with  them  at  Ridgely, 
we  felt  as  if  w«  had  always  been  acquainted. 

I  learned,  in  the  course  of  the  evening,  that  Captain  Bob 
Eldridge  was  living  still,  all  alone,  in  the  rickety  old  house. 
Leah,  it  seemed,  had  been  deceived  by  Fred.  Seaman,  a 
young  fellow  in  Wayburn,  of  whom  I  had  often  heard  her 
speak  during  our  childish  life  together.  The  father,  hard 
and  unforgiving,  had  shut  close  the  doors  of  his  home  and 
heart  against  the  poor,  motherless  girl,  who  had  gone  out 
into  the  wide  world  friendless.  Bitter  tears  fell  that  night, 
as  I  lay  looking  upon  the  little  white  cottage  from  the  win- 
dows of  Pddgely ;  for  her  who  had  been  my  childhood's 
friend,  thus  fallen  and  forsaken.  Winding  my  arms  about 
Stanley's  neck  I  fell  asleep,  not  counting  the  stars  as  I  had 
so  often  done,  but  I  knew  they  were  shining  still,  as  of  old ; 
then  prayed,  even  in  my  dreams,  that  poor  Leah,  betrayed 
and  stricken,  might  by  their  sweet  life  find  way  to  some 
quiet  nook  of  peace,  far  from  the  broad  highway  of  sin, 
into  which  her  feet  had  strayed. 

Ah  !  those  were  sunny  days,  and  sunny  are  the  memories 
of  them.  It  was  May  then,  it  is  May  now ;  though  be- 
tween the  reality  and  the  memory,  six  long  weary  years 
are  lying,  yet  not  one  golden  beam  has  gone  from  their 
primitive  brightness.  I  feel  assured  they  will  shine  on  until 
we  all  shall  meet,  perchance,  in  some  sweet  Maytime  of  the 
hereafter.  The  snow  lies  cold  upon  the  May  flowers  to-day, 
but  has  blighted  none  of  those  blooming  in  that  fairy  past 

Each  hour  was  full  of  enjoyments ;  those  two  calm 
spirits  planned  every  species  of  amusement  for  us.  One 
day  we  made  a  pilgrimage  to  the  hills  opposite,  the  river 
lying  between.  Ray  gave  to  Mary  his  strong  arm,  Clyde 
escorted  Stanley,  and  it  became  my  pleasant  portion  to  be 
led  up  the  rocky  heights  by  the  kind,  firm  hand  of  Mr. 


THE  MOKTANAS.  49 

Edngswell.  I  am  sure  I  never  passed  a  day  so  pleasantly ; 
his  wonderfully  fine  taste,  blended  \dth  poetic  impulses, 
was  so  heightened  by  his  geniality,  and  tempered  by  cor- 
rect judgment;  his  views  on  any  subject,  whether  it  in- 
volved the  discussion  of  Fine  Arts  or  the  manufacturing 
interests  of  his  section,  were  so  far-reaching,  so  lucid,  so 
characterized  by  sterling  worth  and  sense,  bearing  unmis- 
takably the  stamp  of  sex,  his  society  was  to  me  a  perpetual 
source  of  speculation  and  wonder.  I  was  unprepared  to 
find  this  degree  of  refined  intellio-ence  coexistino-  with 
such  thorough  and  efiicient  business  capacity  as  I  had 
always  heard  attributed  to  Clyde  Ingram's  uncle. 

We  were  seated  on  one  of  the  grassiest  slopes,  hundreds 
of  feet  above  the  level — crowned  with  sunshine  like  a  dia- 
dem— observing  the  mist  as  it  gathered  about  the  spires  of 
Wayburn,  and  gloamed  in  vales  below ;  there  was  a  shim- 
mer in  the  air — it  seemed  as  though  the  very  rainbow 
danced ;  thus  completing  one  of  the  most  gorgeous  scenes 
I  ever  beheld.  Tears  gushed  from  his  eyes ;  not  for  the 
grandeur  and  beauty  of  what  he  saw,  but  because  he  loved 
and  venerated  the  source  from  whence  it  sprang.  We  sat 
silent  a  long  time.  At  length  Stanley  came  to  us,  her 
young  face  radiant,  wild  flowers  dimpling  the  waves  of  her 
sunny  hair.  "  Mr.  Kingswell,"  she  exclaimed,  "  will  you 
assist  Jennie  and  myself  in  climbing  this  last  slope  ?  the 
boys  are  too  indolent  for  further  exertion,  but  I  feel  unwill- 
ing to  rest  until  I  have  gained  the  highest  pinnacle." 

"  You  would  have  figiired  well  as  a  politician,  Stanley, 
upon  my  word,  and  would  have  appeared  more  advantage- 
ously than  I  do  now;  behold  me,  nephew,"  he  added, 
turning  to  Clyde,  "  a  blush  rose  between  two  thorns.''''  This 
he  said  with  a  quaint  exhibition  of  humor,  taking  the  hand 
of  each  of  us. 

3 


50  THE  MOKTAKAS. 

"  Thanks  to  the  presiding  genius  of  my  lucky  destiny  for 
having  transferred  one  of  them  from  my  side  to  yours, 
uncle,"  answered  his  affable  and  accommodating  relative. 

"  Spoken  ^vith  characteristic  generosity  ;  that  spirit  of 
self-congratulation  would  commend  you  anywhere,"  Mr. 
Kingswell  said,  with  a  shade  of  sadness  in  his  tone.  He 
felt,  I  question  not,  that  he  would  rather  face  the  universe 
at  contrariety  than  feel  the  sharp  wounds  of  those  little 
friendly  arrows.  Men  who  know  the  world  and  understand 
the  nature  of  true  friendship  rarely  deal  in  them  ;  they 
grow  kinder,  more  considerate  for  the  feelings  of  others 
with  the  passing  on  of  time. 

"  I  doubt  very  much  if  my  nephew,  notwithstanding  his 
grave  aspersion  of  the  several  attributes  of  these  young 
ladies  in  whom  he  avows  so  reluctant  a  proprietorship, 
would  under  any  consideration  manifest  a  willingness  to 
transfer  said  thorns  to  the  side  of  a  younger,  handsomer 
man  than  I  am,"  observed  Mr.  Kingswell  sententiously. 

I  glanced  at  Stanley  as  our  peacemaker  closed  his  sen- 
tence ;  her  eyes  had  wandered  from  the  rainbow-tinted 
valley  to  the  mists  gathering  in  the  dim  distance  beyond ; 
seeming  afar  off  as  the  future  which  is  with  us  while  we 
dream  of  its  coming.  How  strangely  witching  she  looked 
— like  a  wood-nymph  she  looked  then  ;  I  wondered  if 
Clyde  felt  her  loveliness  as  I  did.  Yes,  I  think  so ;  though 
he  lay  on  the  grassy  slope  looking  so  provokingly  indiffer- 
ent I  half  questioned  if  a  score  of  handsome  women  could 
have  moved  him  to  animation,  until  he  raised  his  face  to 
mine ;  then  I  saw  a  look  of  faith,  of  doubt,  and  inquiry  pass 
over  it,  the  shadows  haunting  his  "  lucky  destiny,"  which 
told  him  then  and  there  the  time  would  come  when  each 
would  leave  him — one  from  choice,  the  other  from  a  cruel 
misunderstanding  which  would  blight  all  her  life ;  yet  to 


THE  MONTANAS.  51 

the  last  how  fearlessly  in  spirit  would  she  cling  to  him. 
He  arose  finally,  offering  his  arm  to  Stanley  with  mock 
pomp  and  hauteur;  we  made  the  ascent,  enjoying  the  view 
more  if  possible  than  those  preceding. 

Descending  after  we  had  indeed  climbed  to  the  highest 
peak,  my  escort  stumbled  suddenly  upon  a  shapeless  mass 
of  something — kind  heaven,  was  it  a  man  ?  I  should  never 
have  recoo-nised  God's  imagre  in  the  mutilated  semblance 
upraised  by  the  firm  arm  of  Mr.  KingsweU,  and  supported 
tenderly  as  if  he  had  been  an  infant  while  he  led  him  slowly 
down  the  path  to  a  house  near  the  riverside.  "  I  could  not 
have  done  that,"  said  Raymond,  his  voice  betraying  intense 
contempt  for  the  man,  who  was  beyond  all  consciousness  of 
what  was  passing.     Mr.  KingsweU  answered  gravely  : 

"  Ah !  my  young  friend,  when  you  shaU  have  come  to 
know  this  world  as  well  as  I ;  have  felt  its  rough  corners 
rub  hard  against  you,  and  been  pierced  with  sharp  angles 
of  its  fate ;  realize  how  full  to  the  brim  of  temptation  it  is, 
and  snares  and  pitfalls  for  the  unwary ;  when  you  have  been 
brought  in  swift,  unsatisfying  contact  with  aU  classes  of 
men  for  forty  years,  you  will  have  learned  to  feel  no  con- 
tempt for  any  error  generating  in  the  weakness  of  those 
who  know  not  the  way  of  strength.  Conscience  at  some 
time  or  other  mflicts  the  reprisals  of  justice ;  inevitable 
suffering  succeeds,  and  penance  is  the  final  result.  I  confess 
I  have  little  patience  with  those  who  err  when  every  vaster 
consideration  is  on  the  side  of  right,  circumstances  conspir- 
ing to  hold  them  firm ;  but  knowing  as  I  do  the  heights 
from  which  men  fall — ^from  which  that  young  man  fell — the 
fearful  odds  against  him,  I  thank  my  God  that  I  have  not 
been  tempted  as  he  has  been  I  He  too  was  upright  once ; 
only  two  short  years  ago.  Let  us  not  vaunt  our  strength : 
who  shall  say  what  wrecks  we  may  not  become,  crashing 


52  THE  MONTANAS. 

amid  'stem  rocks'  on  a  'pathless  sea,'  through  which  a 
worthy  divine  has  told  us  lies  the  narrow  way  through 
mortal  endeavor  to  immortal  destiny.  He  loved  a  worthy 
girl  who  was  poor  and  lived  under  the  same  roof  with  hira, 
perfonning  household  duties  for  his  parents,  who  were 
wealthy ;  he  wished  to  marry  her — they  refused ;  he  per- 
sisted— when  TN-ith  imprecations  they  drove  her  from  their 
presence.  Her  father  was  old,  depending  entirely  on  the 
wages  she  received  for  his  support.  When  he  found  she 
had  lost  her  place  through  an  ill-conceived  attachment,  he 
was  very  angry  and  sent  her  away.  After  having  sought 
vainly  for  work,  she  left  Way  bum  in  the  hope  of  being  more 
successful  elsewhere.  Fred  followed  her ;  but  did  not  find 
her,  I  think,  for  he  soon  came  back.  Maddened  by  the  in- 
justice of  his  parents  to  the  girl,  and  his  own  despair,  he 
plunged  recklessly  into  dissipation,  and  is  this  day  what  you 
have  seen  him." 

"The  girl?"  I  asked,. breathlessly. 

"  She  has  not  been  heard  from  since.  But  to  return  to 
this  boy  ;  he  is  in  truth  a  noble  fellow,  and  has  ever  been  a 
favorite  of  mine :  I  have  wept  tears  over  his  do'«^^fall,  and 
would  give  almost  everything  I  possess,  for  power  to  reclaim 
and  see  him  stand  up  God-fearing,  self-reliant,  looking  the 
man  that  he  is."  Here  we  paused  at  the  residence  of  Mr. 
Seaman. 

"  I  shall  leave  you  here,  Frederick,"  said  Mr.  Kingswell, 
kindly.  Somehow,  the  intoxicated  man  was  not  so  stupidly 
unconscious  as  he  appeared  before.  He  turned  towards  his 
benefactor  with  an  uncertain  expression  upon  his  bloated 
features,  though  mingled  with  the  shame  there  written.  I 
traced  a  gleam  of  grateful  emotion  as  his  swollen  eyes  en- 
countered my  own.  There  must  have  been  hoiTor  in  my 
look,  notwithstanding  all  that  had  passed ;  for  I  recognised 


THE  MONTANAS.  53 

the  betrayer  of  my  friend  Leah  with  an  anguish  too  deep 
for  words. 

Darkness  was  gathering  upon  the  face  of  the  waters  as 
we  recrossed  the  river  to  the  home  shore.  Mrs.  Kingswell 
sat  waiting  in  the  Ridgely  carriage  to  take  us  home,  where 
we  found  a  fragrant  tea  awaiting  us.  How  happy  we 
were!  how  wretched  those  two  wandering  "without  the 
pale."  Oh  !  did  not  kind  Father  eyes  from  that  far  heaven 
look  pityingly  upon  them — knowing  how  they  had  lost 
their  way  in  the  darkness  ?  Was  not  His  the  heart  which 
prompted  the  sublime  response  to  sorrowing  Mao-dalen — 
"Neither  do  I  condemn  thee,  sin  no  more." 

There  were  re-unions  planned  for  us  in  which  all  Way- 
burn  participated.  The  elite  came  by  dozens  to  call  upon 
us :  very  soon  Mary's  fragile  card-basket  was  filled  to  over- 
flowing with  solicitations  from  every  available  source.  We 
decided  to  accept  an  invitation  from  my  mother's  distant 
relative  Mr.  Solomon  Hayne,  who  was  occupying  his  sum- 
mer place  at  Wayburn.  While  the  rest  talked  of  him, 
speculating  upon  the  probable  return  from  Europe  of  his 
bachelor  son  Warren,  Mrs.  Kingswell  and  myself,  apart, 
conversed  of  my  mother.  I  have  so  often  thought  of  the 
good  lady's  words  on  that  occasion. 

"  If  on  earth  we  truly  love  a  human  being,  it  is  because 
we  feel  and  know  him  to  be  worthy  our  affection.  Esteem 
is  a  necessary  appurtenance  to  the  durability  of  affection  : 
we  have  seen  those  whom,  though  brilliantly  accomplished, 
we  never  cpuld  have  loved,  because  their  inner  life  held 
not  this  prolific  germ.  There  are  others — passed  awav,  lono- 
hidden  from  our  sight,  of  whom  we  never  think  without  a 
gushing  wave  of  buried  tenderness,  which  calms  the  tumult 
of  every-day  life  like  a  benediction." 

It  was  thus  we  remembered  my  mother  in  heaven  these 


54  THE  MOXTANAS. 

many  years.  I  really  felt  grateful  for  the  warmth  with 
which  I  was  received  and  welcomed  into  strange  house- 
holds for  her  sake.  Those  who  knew  her  best  while  living 
in  their  midst,  who  were  her  daily  associates — ever  referred 
to  her  as  having  been  loving,  patient ;  never  faltering  in  the 
hard  way  which  fate  had  assigned  to  her.  The  circle  was 
held  together  by  her  memory  as  it  h^d  been  brightened  by 
her  presence.  All  was  sadly  changed  since  then :  some 
had  prospered,  others  had  not ;  some  had  grown  grey  in 
the  hard  world's  service :  many  I  missed  who  claimed  my 
childish  remembrance — -who,  like  her,  had  "  gone  the  way 
of  all  the  earth  ! "  None,  I  rejoice,  had  grown  so  sordid  or 
avaricious  with  accmnulated  wealth  and  care,  as  to  deny  me 
this  one  bright  spot  amid  the  vast  wilderness  of  all  the 
past :  in  the  land  which  held  my  mother's  grave,  the  heart 
of  her  orphan  child  was  sunny  and  light. 

We  were  ushered  into  the  midst  of  a  brilliant  assem- 
blage that  evening,  when  the  Ridgely  carriage  left  us  at  Mr. 
Hayne's.  Our  host  and  hostess,  in  consequence  of  urgent 
solicitation  on  our  part,  had  accompanied  us,  as  we  were 
to  leave  them  on  the  morrow.  They  were  not  participants 
in  the  gaieties  on  this  occasion ;  but  did  not  object  to  having 
their  child  mingle  in  the  festivities.  Christianity  was  to 
them  a  divine  power  lifting  itself  above  forms — wholly 
independent  of  externals;  religion  that  was  bigoted  or 
intolerant,  could  not  coexist  in  the  atmosphere  of  their 
unpretending  piety.  How  this  simple  goodness  charmed 
me !  And  what  reverence  I  was  daily  growing  to  feel  for 
the  inmates  of  this  household,  with  the  glorious  spirit  of 
love  in  their  midst;  the  great  love  which  circles  all  objects 
with  its  munificence — a  power,  a  possession,  which  even 
the  least  of  God's  creatures  shared.  In  that  family  we 
first  learned  to  pray;  at  early  morning  and  quiet  evening- 


THE  MONTANAS.  5^ 

time,  the  father  had  kiielt  with  us^ — a  cahn  peace  on  his 
brow ;  he  wore  it  now  amid  these  scenes :  I  think  the  great- 
est tumult  could  not  mar  for  an  instant  the  holy  serenity 
of  his  spirit. 

After  we  had  paid  our  respects  to  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Hayne, 
and  interchanged  the  necessary  pleasantries  with  that  cour- 
teous lady  and  gentleman,  we  were  moving  away,  when  to 
my  surprise  and  pleasure  I  beheld  cousin  Warren  standing 
amid  a  group  near  the  centre  of  the  room.  He  joined  me 
immediately  after.  A  cordial  greeting  was  the  result,  during 
which  he  held  my  hand  between  his  slender  fingers,  his 
large  dai'k  eyes  wandering  often  to  Stanley,  who  was 
promenading  with  Clyde.  That  reminds  me  I  have  never 
yet  essayed  to  describe  my  heroine.  Perhaps  I  have  de- 
layed thus  from  consciousness  of  the  extreme  diflSculty 
involved  in  the  undertaking. 

The  sunbeam  and  sweetest  strain  of  the  thrush ;  the  soft 
whispers  of  slowly  coming  spring,  which  steal  upon  you 
with  lulling,  indescribable  charm,  a  thrill  to  the  soul,  a 
conviction  to  the  sense — are  things  that  may  be  felt  but 
never  delineated.  Such  was  Stanley  Montana's  beauty; 
being  of  that  rare  type  defying  all  description,  whose  charm 
is  infinite  variety — not  so  much  a  personality  as  a  very 
^subtle  presence,  which  made  itself  manifest  without  the  aid 
of  any  embellishment  whatever.  She  carried  with  her  and 
diffused  her  own  peculiar  atmosphere;  all  who  breathed 
were  filled  with  sweet  exhilaration  in  her  circle ;  the  very 
essence  of  the  charm  crept  stealthily  along  the  fibres  of  their 
being — a  sensation  none  were  likely  to  forget.  Her  features 
were  singularly  perfect,  though  her  eyes  of  dark  ocean-blue 
were  the  most  wonderful  creations  of  all. 

I  had  never  seen  her  look  lovelier  than  in  the  snowy-white 
which  showered  about  the  very  essence  it  seemed  of  her 


56  THE  MONTANAS. 

spirit's  virgin  purity ;  white  was  Stanley's  favorite  dress. 
Now  her  curis  fell  over  shoulders  fair  and  round  like  waves 
of  sunlight.  Then  her  eyes — how  I  have  gone  down  into 
their  depths  with  my  own,  to  find  rest  in  that  true  soul  as 
yet  unwarped  by  earthly  contact ;  a  grand  soul,  the  mirror 
of  her  woman's  heart,  where  all  of  love  and  affection  that 
was  divine  shone  forth ;  an  avenue  through  which  may  be 
obtained  glimpses  of  the  immortal. 

Warren  said  as  he  crushed  my  hand,  "  Why  did  you 
never  speak  to  me  of  this  peerless  creature  ?  I  have  never 
met  one  looking  so  youthful — empress-like  as  she  appears." 

"She  is  distantly  allied  to  the  Haynes,"  I  answered, 
saucily ;  "  that  circumstance  may  in  itself  be  sufficient  to 
elucidate  the  problem  of  her  surpassing  loveliness." 

He  smiled  his  old  imperious  smile,  which  I  loved  best  to 
see  upon  his  kingly  face ;  then  answered  while  his  eyes 
followed  Stanley  as  she  glided  through  the  intricate  mazes 
of  a  polka  quadrille  in  progress,  which  she  and  Clyde 
danced  admirably  together.  This  diversion  had  been  one 
of  our  favorite  amusements  at  Claremont ;  it  was  strange  to 
see  it  in  vogue  at  Wayburn,  so  quiet  and  puritanical  in  its 
usages  once. 

"Some  of  the  city  fashions  the  Haynes  had  brought 
from  New  York  with  them,"  remarked  Mrs.  Seaman,  the 
ill-conditioned  wife  of  a  church  deacon,  who  had  become 
sufficiently  reconciled  to  this  fashion  to  become  a  spec- 
tator in  this  instance.  Warren  smiled  again  as  I  remarked, 
"  What  cannot  be  cured  must  be  endured." 

"  I  observe  you  have  not  lost  your  propensity  to  be  sar- 
castic, Jennie ;  as  a  child  you  were  exceedingly  cruel  to  me  ; 
I  find  you  unchanged.  Tell  me,  in  your  sunny  home  have 
you  ever  thought  of  our  pleasant  days  together  in  New 
York  ?     How  uncle's  decision  that  he  would  reside  in  Way- 


THE  MONT  AN  AS.  57 

bum  broke  into  our  arrangements ;  afterwards  you  became 
a  recluse.  My  friend  Milverton  has  not  forgotten  you ;  lie 
speaks  of  you  often,  and  has  sent  you  messages  through 
the  medium  of  my  letters,  to  which  you  never  once  re- 
sponded." 

I  heeded  not  his  reminder ;  my  heart  had  gone  out  into 
that  school-time  with  the  bereavement  which  ensued ;  I 
thought  of  the  two  graves  in  the  cemetery  near  by,  their 
white  stones  gleaming  in  summer  moonshine  like  spectres 
of  the  old  days.  Warren  had  been  so  unfortunate  as  to 
sweep  these  chords  of  bitterness.  Now  taking  my  hand 
caressingly  he  led  me  towards  the  sitting-room  ;  I  made  a 
deprecating  gesture  when  he  would  have  taken  me  to  the 
piano ;  instead,  we  passed  into  the  garden,  treading  its  paths 
in  the  shadowy  night — through  clustering  dewdrops  that 
shone  like  diamonds,  flashing  back  the  starry  radiance  in 
which  we  walked. 

"  Now,  Jennie,  you  must  tell  me  something  more  about 
this  Hebe  cousin  of  yours.  How  long  do  you  remain  in 
Waybum ;  where  will  be  your  next  halting-place ;  and 
when  will  you  transplant  your  southern  lily  to  her  native 
bowers  again  ? " 

"  You  give  me  no  time  to  answer  one  query  ere  you  ply 
another.  Stanley  is  the  only  daughter  of  Uncle  Clifibrd 
Montana.  We  leave  Waybum  to-morrow,  go  to  Boston, 
Nahant,  and  home  in  September." 

"  Who  is  the  young  fellow  with  whom  she  dances  ?  " 

"  Clyde  Ingram,  her  mother's  stepson." 

"  Ah  !  yes,  I  understand ;  I  learned  from  Aunt  Hayne  that 
she  was  accompanied  by  a  most  devoted  suitor,  who  really 
monopolized  her.  Arrived  at  Waybum  I  was  regaled  as 
usual  with  the  gossip  of  the  place ;  heard  the  merits  of 
your  beautiful  cousin  discussed  before  you  came  this  even- 


58  THE  MOKTANAS. 

ing.  Tell  me,  Jennie,  is  it  trae  that  her  father  is  seeking 
to  negotiate  for  her  a  marriage  with  him  because  he  is 
rich  ?  " 

I  felt  that  the  pain  at  my  heart  was  suddenly  checked  by 
this  trite  conclusion  to  his  interrogatory :  something  very 
like  angry  defiance  flashed  into  my  face,  when  I  saw  the 
lofty  expression  of  triumphant  disdain  in  the  magnificent 
eyes  of  my  cousin  Warren;  though  in  his  courteous  tones 
there  was  moderate  surprise  afiably  expressed — nothing 
more,  in  the  words  he  spoke  now  : 

"  Her  suitor,  is  he — indeed  ? "  There  remained  nothing 
for  me  save  a  course  of  repentance  for  my  hasty  -wTath, 
then  to  laugh  immoderately  at  his  diplomatic  quietus  upon 
my  intended  defence  of  Clyde.  Warren  too  laughed,  each 
knowing  why  the  other  laughed,  though  no  further  inter- 
pretation of  9ur  risibility  was  vouchsafed  by  either.  By 
and  by  Warren  said  very  tenderly : 

"  You  are  a  strange  girl,  Jenny.  I  shall  be  more  cautious 
about  looking  for  my  proposed  triumph  over  this  Quixotic 
rival,  if  such  I  may  consider  him,  especially  when  I  have  an 
auditor  who  is  ready  to  convert  my  glance  into  an  imaginary 
dagger " 

"  And  your  cool  disdain  into  an  impossible  conquest,"  I 
answered,  thus  concluding  the  sentence  in  a  manner  foreign 
to  his  design.     Then  we  passed  into  the  house. 

Stanley  was  seated  at  the  instrument,  singing  with  Clyde 
an  invocation  to  the  South ;  words  and  music  were  her  own. 
AVe  managed  to  get  a  position  amid  the  throng  of  listeners, 
near  the  singer.  I  have  never  since  seen  my  cousins  look 
as  they  did  that  night.  Stanley  fair  and  beautiful  as  the 
angel  of  a  dream ;  Warren  showing  how  he  felt  all  the 
witchery  and  power  of  her  loveliness.  His  soul  bowed 
down,  wrapt  in  humble  adoration,  while  those  slender,  child- 


THE  MONTANAS.  59 

ish  fingers  swept  its  chords  as  none  else  had  ever  swept 
them — the  wild,  sweet  strains  would  linger  with  him,  doubt- 
less, until  he  heard  other  strains  very  Uke  them  from  angel 
fingers  come  over  the  cold,  grey  waters  from  bright  harps 
beyond. 

When  she  had  ceased  singing,  he  crept  reverently  to  her 
side,  thanking  her  in  such  courtly  terms  and  with  such  mani- 
fest pleasure.  As  I  looked  upon  my  proud  cousin,  I  could 
not  help  feeling  keenly  the  distinction  between  what  he 
might  have  been,  and  what  he  was  1 — a  disciple  of  that  selfish 
class  of  worldlians,  whose  higher  impulses  are  invariably  at 
the  mandate  of  interest,  who  worship  at  the  shrine  of  that 
inexorable  MootiI — Mammon  ! 

We  met  my  cousin  again ;  he  joined  us  at  the  early 
breakfast  prepared  at  Ridgely  for  our  especial  benefit,  before 
leave-taking,  in  which  he  too  participated.  He  went  his 
way,  and  we  went  ours,  missing  very  much  the  kind  voice, 
genial  manner,  and  handsome  face  of  Warren  Hayne. 


CHAPTER  y. 

•*  In  many  ways  does  the  full  heart  reveal. 
The  presence  of  a  love  it  would  conceal." 

GOLESIDGE. 

Almost  immediately  upon  our  arrival  at  the  Tremont,  War- 
ren paid  his  respects  to  us ;  he  had  lingered  at  Waybum 
only  long  enough  to  telegraph  his  intention  to  his  father, 
who  he  knew  could  readily  supply  his  place,  in  the  event 
of  a,  protracted  absence.  It  was  evident  he  had  decided  to 
become  one  of  our  party,  though  far  too  gentlemanly  to 
think  of  monopolizing  Stanley's  society  to  the  exclusion  of 


60  THE  MONTANAS. 

Clyde,  who  was  her  legitimate  escort,  though  he  never 
failed  to  join  us  in  the  evenings,  no  matter  where  he  went. 
He  invariably  preceded  us  to  the  Opera.  On  entering,  we 
were  sure  to  behold  him  in  some  conspicuous  place,  often 
leaning  against  one  of  the  sculptured  columns,  ostensibly 
much  absorbed  in  the  performance.  However,  even  through 
his  well  counterfeited  semblance,  it  was  manifest  that  his 
indifference  was  unfelt ;  that  he  was  silently  drinking  inspi- 
ration from  Stanley's  mystic  presence,  while  she,  in  her 
touching  girlish  beauty,  w^as  wholly  unconscious  how  this 
world-sending  man,  with  stealthy  tread,  was  treading  the 
avenues  of  her  young  heart — a  heart  from  her  earliest  child- 
hood so  loyal  to  Clyde.  Thus,  in  a  few  brief  days  were 
swept  away  "  the  ties  of  long,  long  years." 

One  afternoon,  returning  from  a  shopping  expedition 
with  Raymond,  I  ran  across  the  corridor  to  Stanley's  apart- 
ment for  the  purpose  of  displaying  some  new  purchase  in 
which  she  was  interested.  She  stood  before  a  mirror,  roll- 
ing over  her  taper  fingers  the  wavy  bands  of  golden  hair,  a 
picture  of  unconscious  loveliness,  her  eyes  lustrous — dreamy  ; 
such  misty  splendor,  such  trusting  fondness,  in  their 
depths.  She  turned  suddenly,  beholding  me,  cast  her  arms 
about  my  neck,  blushing  with  a  consciousness  that  I  too 
felt,  for  I  held  no  place  in  her  reflections  then.  The  room 
was  filled  with  the  odor  of  jasmine  clusters  and  tea  roses. 

"  See  my  flowers ! "  lifting  from  the  window-seat  where  it 
stood  without  the  Venetian  blind,  a  goblet  of  silver  elegantly 
chased ;  inclosed  within  a  beautifully  wrought  device  on  one 
side,  was  the  little  word  "  Stanley."  Somehow  there  was  a 
blur  in  the  air  about  me,  as  I  inhaled  the  fragrance  of  those 
flowers. 

"  From  Clyde  ? "  I  asked  with  apparent  indifference, 
stifling  thd  dull  pain  at  my  heart,  to  which  of  late  I  had 


TEE  MONTANAS.  61 

grown  so  accustomed,  crushing  it  down  as  unworthy  of  me 
and  of  our  friendship. 

"I  imagine  they  came  from  Mr.  Hayne,"  she  answered 
firmly,  though  with  evident  emotion. 

"  Was  there  a  card  ? "  I  persisted. 

"  A  blank  one,''  was  her  reply. 

My  mental  query  was,  why  did  she  suspect  him  of  hav- 
ing sent  them  ?  Only  because  in  her  secret  heart  she  would 
have  been  pleased  most  that  he  was  the  donor  of  this  beau- 
tiful gift.  It  was  like  his  delicacy,  I  mused  in  pursuance 
of  the  thought ;  he  would  not  openly  address  Stanley, 
thinking  Clyde  her  suitor.  Or  else — a  terrible  suspicion 
crossed  my  mind — would  he,  by  these  indirect  means,  in- 
veigle himself  into  her  affections  without  making  in  return 
the  slightest  concession  or  giving  her  the  faintest  hold 
on  his  ? 

These  were  Warren's  old  tricks — heart-breakino-  had  been 
his  favorite  pastime. 

"  To  kneel  at  many  a  shrine, 
Yet  lay  Ms  heart  at  none." 

I  could  have  brought  forward  numberless  epistles  from 
various  members  of  the  circle  to  which  we  were  attached,  to 
say  nothing  of  the  convincing  and  convicting  record  of  his 
own  lithe  pen,  recounting  innumerable  victories  between 
the  ages  of  seventeen  and  twenty-seven,  as  proof  positive 
that  my  assertion  was  correct.  I  should  have  told  her  then 
and  there  to  beware  !  There  was  a  bright,  bright  structure 
forming  under  heaven  that  some  cruel  hand  would  shiver 
to  atoms;  gaudy  tissues  wea\^ng  which  a  breath  of  fate 
would  scatter  so  widely,  at  the  inevitable  mandate  of  other 
time  and  place,  that  neither  might  ever  again  find  that 
which  was  lost  in  the  days  whose  golden  sands  we  counted 


62  .  TEE  MONTANA  S. 

during  the  pleasant  time  of  our  sojourning  there  together. 
God  grant  such  loss  raay  not  stand  clear  in  heaven. 

Clyde  saw  and  felt  this  as  I  did,  and  fearing  it  was  War- 
ren's intention  to  trifle  with  Stanley,  he  haughtily  held  him 
aloof  as  one  unworthy  his  esteem  and  confidence.  I  attri- 
buted this  feeling  to  the  sorrow  he  experienced  in  Stanley's 
manifest  preference  for  Warren.  He  spoke  more  and  more 
coldly  to  his  rival :  with  secret  misgiving  I  beheld  this 
silent  antagonism  growing  up  between  them.  I  sym- 
pathized deeply  with  all  parties,  though  fearful  of  being 
unjust  to  cousin  Warren,  whom  I  liked  sincerely  notwith- 
standing his  many  faults  and  ficklenesses ;  I  resolved  to  keep 
my  own  counsel,  leaving  to  God  the  issue. 

One  of  my  cousin's  favorite  pastimes  was  to  promenade 
the  long  hall  at  the  hotel,  his  princely  head  inclined  for- 
ward, making  the  outline  perfect.  It  was  thus  always, 
and  thus  I  ever  remember  him — walking  and  waiting — in 
other  days,  when  we  came  not  in  answer  to  his  summons. 

He  often  invited  Stanley  to  accompany  him  alone  to  the 
theatre  and  other  places  of  amusement.  On  such  occasions 
Clyde  invariably  appeared  restless  and  wretched.  I  pitied 
him,  and  sought  to  mitigate  his  sufi'ering  and  cheer  him 
with  my  simple  songs  and  talk  as  I  had  often  done  at 
Claremont,  when  my  endeavor  was  less  vain  than  now. 
Once  he  seemed  so  grateful  for  the  efi"ort,  which  he  duly 
appreciated,  he  was  almost  happy  ;  his  face  actually  softened 
into  the  pleasant  smile  I  loved  so  well  and  had  not  seen  for 
so  long.  He  was  almost  transformed  one  evening  when  I 
passed  to  his  side,  indulging  in  the  old  habit  of  shaking 
hands  on  bidding  him  good-night.  He  said  suddenly, 
speaking  with  vehement  eagerness : 

"  Aljean,  have  you  ever  loved  ? "  The  hot  blood  rushed 
to  my  cheeks !     What  right  had  he,  Stanley's  sorrowing, 


THE  MONTANAS.  63 

disappointed  lover,  to  question  me  thus  ?  I  was  turning 
away  when  I  caught  the  anxious  expression  in  his  face.  I 
could  not  be  unkind,  so  I  answered,  half  recklessly  : 

"  Yes !  I  have  loved,  but  my  love  is  unrequited ;  none 
will^ever  know " 

He  shrank  back  into  his  wonted  silence  with  the  look  of 
white  angruish  his  face  had  often  worn  of  late :  then  I  left 
him,  regretting  the  next  instant  my  hasty  avowal,  since  it 
had  seemed  to  recall  with  such  force  and  bitterness  his  own 
burden  of  wasted  affection. 

On  the  following  afternoon  Clyde  accompanied  me  on  a 
tour  through  the  city  in  search  of  an  article  Aunt  Edith 
had  specially  requested  us,  if  possible,  to  find  for  her. 
Raymond  was  engaged  in  the  execution  of  commissions  for 
Uncle  Montana ;  Stanley  had  gone  driving  with  Warren. 
Clyde  knew  that  there  was  no  one  else  to  escort  me,  other- 
wise I  think  he  would  have  declined.  His  manner  towards 
both  Stanley  and  myself  had  changed  very  much  since  the 
acquisition  of  Mr.  Hayne  to  our  party.  I  sometimes  fan- 
cied he  imao-ined  us  both  in  love  with  Cousin  Warren,  who 
compelled  us  by  force  of  example  to  treat  him  with  due 
consideration — a  belief  which  I  rather  encouraged  than 
otherwise ;  anything  sooner  than  he  should  come  to  know 
and  feel  my  secret  love  for  him. 

Ever  since  that  strange  interview  he  had  been  more  dis- 
tant than  ever ;  now  he  appeared  very  patient  while  I  over- 
looked, assorted,  matched,  and  purchased  interminable  par- 
cels for  the  benefit  of  the  household  at  Claremont.  During 
the  measurement  of  a  robe  designed  for  Aunt  Edith,  he 
selected  a  silk  Marie  Louise  blue — ^just  the  color  of  her 
eyes — ^brocaded  with  tiny  sprays  of  lilies  of  the  valley,  for 
Stanley.  While  it  was  being  wrapped  up,  I  myself  having 
added  the  trimmings,  I  heard  him  sigh  heavily  once  or  twice. 


64  THE  MONTANAS. 

"  Are  you  not  well,  brother  ? "  I  asked,  compassionatelv. 

"  Yes,  very,"  he  answered,  in  a  strange,  hunky  voice ; 
"  but,  Aljean,  I  wish  you  would  not  call  me  brother  ever 
any  more.  I  do  not  care  to  have  you  mock  me  thus."  I 
was  speechless  with  surprise  and  pain ;  I  could  not  even 
inquire  what  he  meant  by  those  strange  words,  until  he 
added : 

"There  is  a  beautiful  lavender  of  similar  pattern;  will 
you  wear  it  ? "  Did  he  think  by  this  assumption  of  the  old 
manner  to  obliterate  from  my  mind  the  memory  and  effect 
of  his  capricious  and  cruel  speech?  I  determined  not  to 
let  him  see  how  deeply  that  one  little  sentence  had  wounded 
me ;  when  I  responded  there  was  no  pain  manifest,  only 
bitter  sneering  in  my  tones. 

"  No ;  I  thank  you,  Mr.  Ingram,  I  never  wear  lavender ; 
it  is  unbecoming  my  complexion." 

"  Select  your  own  color ;  here  is  any  shade  you  wish." 

"  I  shall  not  make  a  selection,"  I  said,  with  angry  vehe- 
mence.    His  sarcastic  answer  pierced  me  like  an  arrow : 

"  Who  has  objected  to  your  accepting  and  wearing  my 
gift  ?  I  have  the  right  to  ask,  for  some  one  has  of  late 
influenced  you  against  me  strangely." 

"  Your  questioning,  sir,  I  consider  unwarranted  by  my 
refusal  to  accept  what  you  offer.     As  this  is  from  Stanley 
you  can  compel  her  to  answer  you ;  she  who  has  the  right 
to  object  to  your  interrogating  me,  if  she  choose." 

"  My  sister ;  yes,  she  has  the  right,  but  would  not  avail 
herself  of  it ;  she  has  more  consideration  for  me.  I  shall 
be  well  content  to  feel  assured  Mr.  Hayne  has  not  the 
right  to  demur  to  her  acceptance  of  the  little  purchase  I 
made  for  her.  Though,  I  am  sure,  I  as  her  brother  should 
not  object  to  her  receiving  gifts  from  whom  she  choose — 
even  from  him,  if  he  and  she  so  willed  it." 


THE  MONTANAS.  65 

Did  lie  really  think  to  teach  liis  poor  heart  to  look  upon 
her  as  a  sister — nothing  more  ?  Then  why  his  an^ry  ques- 
tionmg  words  to  me  who  was  less  to  hun  even  than  this ; 
how  had  I  merited  them  ?  At  the  remembrance  of  all,  my 
wrath  flashed  up  again,  and  I  answered  excitedly : 

"  Granting  the  truth  of  all  you  say,  Mr.  Ingram,  is  that 
any  reason  you  should  speak  as  you  have  done  to  me  ?     I  - 
have  accepted  your  mother's  charity— it  does  not  neces- 
sarily follow  that  I  should  degrade  myself  by  receiving 
yours,  or  that  you  should  insult  me  by  offering  it." 

Alas  !  I  did  not  then  know — for  he  had  generously  con- 
cealed from  me,  from  all  of  us,  the  painful  fact  that  to  hun 
and  to  him  alone  were  we  indebted,  one  and  all,  for  every- 
thing ;  even  the  very  bread  we  ate. 

He  answered  very  sorrowfully — I  wonder  now  how  he 
could  have  been  so  patient  with  me — with  a  forced  resig- 
nation to  his  fate : 

"  I  perceive  you  strangely  misconstrue  my  motive,  Aljean ; 
I  meant  no  insult  to  you ;  God  knows  I  speak  tnily.  I 
requested  you  not  to  call  me  brother,  because  it  pains  me 
to  hear  you  call  me  so ;  why  you  do  not  comprehend,  I 
see ;  so  let  it  pass ;  some  day  you  will  learn  to  know  me 
better ;  then  you  will  readily  forgive  my  hasty  words." 

"  I  have  already  forgiven  you,  Clyde,"  I  answered,  tremu- 
lously. Somehow  that  little  sentence  of  concession  had 
melted  the  wall  of  anger  suddenly  arisen  between  us.  I 
too  had  been  hasty ;  why  did  not  I  ask  pardon  of  him  as 
well? — ^because  I  was  sure  he  would  grant  it  whether  I 
asked  it  or  not ;  for  how  good  and  kind  and  forgivino-  he 
had  been  to  me  always  ! 

Eeturning  to  the  hotel,  we  found  Stanley  and  Warren, 
who  had  preceded  and  were  awaiting  us.  She  sat  beside 
him  on  a  divan ;  her  bonnet  was  of  white  cactus ;  there 


66  THE  MONTANA S. 

were  clusters  of  blue  violets  and  daisies  in  the  face-trim- 
ming; these  were  so  incorporated  with  waves  and  ripples 
of  sunny  hair,  it  would  have  been  difficult  to  discern  the 
exact  boundary  between  them.  On  one  pomt  at  least  the 
beholder  could  be  specific,  fearless  of  being  inaccurate : 
this  was  regarding  the  very  beautiful  roses  encircled  by  the 
fairy  garland  which  had  that  day  been  invoked  by  Warren 
Hayne.  They  were  Christian  roses,  and  manifested  no 
spirit  of  interference  or  encroachment  upon  their  surround- 
ings, even  while  they  bloomed  thus  brilliantly,  mute  syni- 
bols  of  his  triumph.  I  had  seen  it  from  the  first  all  along, 
though  I  think  Clyde  had  never  realized  it  until  that  inter- 
view. To  avoid  meeting  his  eyes,  I  took  my  seat  beside 
her,  took  her  tiny,  trembling  hands  in  mine,  and  sought  to 
turn  her  beaming  face  away  from  his  searching  gaze. 

Very  soon  Ray  came  back,  and  the  three  gentlemen 
joined  us  at  dinner,  at  the  conclusion  of  which  meal,  at 
the  suggestion  of  our  brother — Clyde  was  not  our  brother 
any  more — we  repaired  to  the  parlor ;  the  gentlemen, 
excepting  Warren,  w^ho  never  smoked,  decided  to  forego 
their  cherished  cigars  in  lieu  of  the  "family  chat"  which 
they  proposed.  Warren  was  in  full  force  that  evening ;  it 
was  the  next  thing  to  impossible  to  avoid  growing  genial  in 
his  presence ;  ere  the  conclusion  of  the  second  glass  of 
champagne  he  became  exceedingly  voluble,  saying  some 
very  "witty  things  with  true  Southern  dash,  and  many 
friendly  winning  ones  with  such  heartiness  it  was,  as  I 
before  hinted,  akin  to  impossible  to  resist  their  influence  : 
even  Clyde  apparently  became  pacified  and  companionable. 

During  the  course  of  the  evening  the  conversation 
assumed  a  political  form;  that  quicksand  Stanley  and 
I,  as  cicerones,  had  hitherto  sought  to  a^oid ;  our  endea- 
vor in  this  instance  had  been  worse  than  useless. 


THE  MONTANAS.  67 

I  really  feared  for  Ray,  who  blurted  out  his  opinions 
without  stint  or  reservation.  He  expressed  a  con\dctiou 
that  the  "  Republican  candidate  for  the  Presidency  would  be 
elected  by  a  sectional  element,  not  by  the  voice  of  a  united 
people  ;  in  almost  any  event  he  fancied  the  Republic  would 
be  dismembered,  and  dissolution  be  the  final  result.  This 
he  had  long  apprehended,  an  event  which  never  seemed  so 
likely  to  ensue  as  now.  The  institution  of  slavery  had 
ever  been  a  pretext  to  agitators,  an  eyesore  to  both  North 
and  South.  It  is  a  question  of  vast  import  to  the  South 
in  estimating  the  value  and  interest  of  the  Gulf  States, 
where  white  labor  is  unavailable ;  though  it  should  be  a  con- 
sideration of  little  moment  to  those  North,  who  are  the 
first  to  cry  out,  '  Down  with  it !  let  slavery  be  for  ever  ex- 
tinguished! ' "  •  '  ■ 

"  You  do  not,  you  cannot,  even  though  you  maintain 
slavery  to  be  right,  and  justifiable  in  the  sight  of  God  and 
man,  claim  the  premises  that  it  is  advantageous  to  any  com- 
munity, in  whatever  section  their  lot  may  be  cast,"  remarked 
Warren  earnestly.  "I  hold  it  to  be  a  festering  evil,  a 
chasm  bridged  over  by  custom,  sustained  by  the  pillars, 
now  rotten  and  cinimbhng,  upon  which  it  was  reared — an 
institution  fit  only  for  the  darker  ages ;  a  structure  whose 
foundation-stone  came  from  heathendom.  The  world  has 
made  gigantic  evolutions,  from  generation  to  generation, 
through  vast  areas  of  progress,  with  this  Gorgon  of  the  feudal 
period  clinging  to  the  power-wheels  of  civilization.  The 
scales  have  drooped  one  by  one  from  the  brightening  eyes 
of  nations,  each  of  whom  has  been  born  again  into  a  glo- 
rious realm  of  freedom  !  America  stands  alone.  Even  the 
universal  revolution  has  long  since  crossed  the  ocean ;  the 
North  rose  up  in  its  strength,  as  one  man ;  humanity,  with 
probe  and  knife  removed  the  moral  cancer  from  her  vitals 


68  THE  MOXTANAS. 

shook  from  the  strong  limbs  of  the  people,  in  at  least  one 
portion  of  the  Republic,  the  lethargy  that  had  bound  them 
in  a  state  of  inactivity.  By  her  magnanimous  example  the 
bondman  was  made  free. 

"But  your  country,  that  vaunted,  boasted  land  of  the 
sunny  South !  the  canker  is  yet  in  her  glorious  heart,  the 
poison  of  this  system  in  her  veins,  retarding  every  attempt 
at  progression,  a  malaria  binding  her  to  the  rack  of  feudal 
deformity — a  lamentable  condition  of  mental  and  physical 
inanity. 

"  Russia  stands  stronger  to-day  than  when  the  structure 
of  her  national  pomp  and  pride  was  reared  upon  the  pil- 
lars of  serfdom ;  so  would  it  be  with  you,  if  from  your 
system  of  government  this  evil  was  purged  out.  It  is  pro- 
lific of  convulsions !  for  the  giants  in  intellect  among  you, 
and  these  are  comparatively  few,  there  are  thousands  who 
are  helplessly  and  hopelessly  dwarfed,  cringing  in  vales  of 
wretchedness,  ignorance,  and  poverty.  It  is  a  diplomatic 
and  adroit  process  of  sifting  the  rights  of  the  small  from 
the  wrongs  of  the  great !  or  rather  rights  of  the  few  from 
the  wrongs  of  a  multitude  !  This  is  your  boasted  system  of 
human  slavery.  The  iron  heel  of  its  pernicious  usages 
grinds  the  white  laborer  down  to  a  condition  infinitely 
worse  than  that  of  the  most  abject  servitude." 

"  You  are  right  there,"  Clyde  answered  blandly ;  "  the 
blacks  enjoy  amenities  and  privileges  from  which  the 
poorer  class  of  whites  are  debarred.  To  those  who  chance 
to  be  personally  acquainted  with  these  facts,  your  argument 
in  favor  of  improving  the  condition  of  the  negroes  sounds 
strangely  inconsistent.  In  nine  cases  out  of  ten  they  are 
satisfied  with  their  condition,  and  would  not  exchange  their 
present  state  for  all  the  immunities  of  a  freedom  the  signi- 
ficance of  which  they  have  not  the  power  to  comprehend. 


THE  MONTANAS  69 

I  understand  tlie  subject  well,  and  realize  how  mucli  supe- 
rior in  circumstance  and  destiny  are  those  held  in  lineal 
servitude  to  the  poorer  class  of  whites.  In  nine  cases  out 
of  ten,  as  I  before  remarked,  you  would  n6t  better  the  con- 
dition of  the  slave." 

"  That  may  be  so ;  I  am  not  pleading  the  cause  of  the 
negro  at  the  tribunal  of  these  fair  arbitresses ;  it  is  only 
the  cause  of  humanity.  By  your  own  admission,  the  con- 
dition of  nine-tenths  of  your  net  population  is  infinitely 
worse  than  that  of  the  lineal  bondsmen.  Oh,  were  this 
crushing,  bindings  burden  but  taken  from  the  shoulders  of 
these  poor  men,  that  they  might  come  up  gradually  from 
the  mazes  of  their  ignorance — come  to  feel  that  they  are 
in  truth  men  among  men,  and  learn  to  comprehend  in  its 
fullest  significance  all  the  dignity  and  power  implied  in  the 
term,  to  stand  as  freemen,  shoulder  to  shoulder,  heart  to 
heart ;  then  there  would  be  a  new  order  of  things.  Ave- 
nues would  open  as  if  by  magic ;  through  those  shining 
portals  vistas  of  a  higher  destiny  would  become  visible; 
feet  now  wandering  in  poverty,  faltering  in  obscurity, 
would  soon  learn  to  walk  firmly  and  hopefully  the  sunnier 
life-track. 

"  There  is  a  work,  a  great  work  for  the  present  age  to 
perform ;  the  pathway  to  it  is  beaten  and  blood-stained : 
toiling  up  from  the  stand-point  of  black-pinioned  doubt 
millions  of  freemen  will  come  scattering  life  and  treasure, 
the  nation's  bone  and  sinew,  by  the  way,  to  the  goal  of 
this  end. 

''  I  am  convinced,  as  well  as  him  who  sees  the  end  from 
the  beginning,  that  the  liberation  of  the  slave,  the  white 
man's  advancement  towards  the  civilization  in  which  pos- 
terity will  rejoice  and  thank  us  for,  united  under  the 
flaming  head  of  freedom,  will  be  triumphant." 


10  THE  MONTANAS. 

"  Then  it  will  be  a  triumph  dearly  won,"  answered 
Clyde,  with  flashing  eyes.  "  Even  the  cause  which  you 
vaunt  as  a  pretext  must  elude  you ;  for  the  South,  rich 
and  poor,  great  a^d  small,  bond  and  free,  will  stand  up  as 
one  man  to  defeat  your  purpose ;  high  hearts  will  bleed 
and  break,  and  their  death-throes  will  shake  your  govern- 
ment to  its  very  centre  and  convulse  the  material  universe 
ere  this  shall  come  to  pass." 

I  have  often  since  recalled  this  prophecy  of  Clyde's, 
though  none  of  us  seemed  to  feel  or  scarcely  to  heed  it 
then,  and  by  some  adroit  strategy  on  our  part  the  con- 
versation was  changed.  They  talked  now  of  the  beautiful 
countries  through  which  they  all  had  passed ;  where  War- 
ren Hayne,  more  especially,  had  grown  rich  in  those  men- 
tal treasures  which  made  his  society  a  resource  so  prized 
by  all — invaluable  to  a  young  enthusiast  like  Stanley.  On 
that  occasion  I  remember  he  talked  magnificently;  there 
was  such  power  in  his  eloquence,  coupled  with  the  lofty 
charm  of  his  manner,  such  grandeur  in  the  personality 
thus  asserted.  I  too  was  captivated,  and  appreciated  my 
cousin  more  than  ever  before ;  he  possessed  a  strange 
capacity  to  magnetize  his  auditors.  Now,  while  he  spoke 
of  Germany,  we  listened  to  the  chime  of  Bohemian  bells 
and  heard  the  sounds  of  the  rushing  Rhine :  he  glided  on 
to  other  themes,  themes  world-wide  and  comprehensive ; 
we  beheld  spheres  rhetorical  and  metaphorical  spheres 
evolving  through  the  mystic  spaces  of  his  thought,  bathed 
in  sunlit  mists,  embalmed  in  the  fragrance  of  their  flowers ; 
we  seemed  to  hear  two  sweet  strains  of  soul  music  while 
he  thus  grandly  swept  young  heart-strings  that  were 
twining  into  the  recesses  of  his  own,  with  what  power  and 
effect  only  God  knew. 

I  scarce  knew  whether  I  most  joyed  or  sorrowed  for  the 


THE  MONT  ANAS.  7] 

turn  affairs  had  taken ;  I  could  not  but  listen  sometimes 
to  the  deep  voice  of  hope  in  my  own  being  whispering, 
it  is  best;  but  when  I  looked  on  Stanley's  face,  which 
darted  occasional  glances  of  unrest  into  my  own,  owing  to 
some  undefined  cause,  or  upon  Clyde,  who  was  at  times  so 
moody  and  watchful,  I  felt  it  would  perhaps  have  been 
better  for  all  if  we  could  have  had  the  old  time  back  with- 
out the  added  sunshine  of  this  new  presence. 

Cousin  Warren  made  one  of  our  party  to  Nahant ;  to 
my  surprise  we  there  encountered  the  Soules  and  the  Aus- 
tins from  Xew  Orleans.  Now  I  had  just  cause  for  disliking 
Retta  Austin ;  she  had  been  a  pupil  at  the  same  academy 
in  which  Stanley  and  myself,  as  Ray  jestingly  remarked, 
had  "  climbed  the  hill  of  science ;"  there  I  had  held  her 
aloof,  after  the  fashion  of  school-girls,  though  now,  with 
characteristic  littleness,  she  deemed  it  politic  to  avail  her- 
self of  the  acquaintance  in  consideration  of  the  gentlemen 
attached  to  our  party,  though  it  was  easy  to  see  and  feel 
she  had  not  quite  forgotten  or  forgiven  the  old  score. 
From  her  first  introduction  to  Warren  she  persisted  in 
claiming  a  portion  of  his  time,  even  at  the  expense  of  her 
delicacy  and  his  manifest  preference  for  Stanley. 

The  days  passed  very  charmingly  in  this  ocean-girded 
retreat ;  each  was  fall  to  the  brim  of  that  busily-idle  pre- 
carious life  of  pleasure,  which  is  ever  succeeded  by  a  sense 
of  loss  or  a  consciousness  of  wanting  something  to  occupy  the 
void  they  leave  behind  them.  Such  seasons  of  exaltation 
are  ever  followed  by  periods  of  corresponding  depression. 

Meanwhile,  mists  were  fleecing  and  thickening  on  the  far- 
rolling  sea ;  sunshine  mellowing  on  the  paths  in  which  we 
often  walked  or  drove  ;  summer  song-birds  drew  feathery 
mantles  closer  about  shivering  little  forms,  wet  with  ocean 
spray,  and  trooping,  chattered  of  their  southward  voyage. 


12  THE  MONTANA  S. 

We,  too,  began  to  think  of  returning  to  Ridgely,  often 
wondering,  as  many  a  summer  party  has  done  before,  if  we 
should  ever  meet  again.  Aye !  perhaps.  Ere  we  came, 
the  life  journey  ended  to  a  darker  ocean-side,  if  not  beyond 
seas. 

Warren's  fiiend,  Milverton,  too,  had  joined  us  at  Nahant. 
We  found  him  a  valuable  acquisition  to  our  party  ;  so  genial, 
so  quick  in  his  perception  and  comprehension  of  things ; 
so  witty  and  voluble,  we  could  scarcely  realize  that  we  had 
actually  existed  previous  to  his  arrival.  He  saw  there  was 
something  amiss,  and  set  himself  at  work  to  discover  and 
amend  it.  I  knew  not  how  it  all  came  about,  but  Clyde 
was  feeling  better,  I  found,  as  the  days  went  by.  Pride 
had  served  him  in  good  stead ;  he  was  strong,  and  in  my 
secret  heart  I  honored  him  for  his  triumph  and  dignified 
submission  to  what  was  apparently  inevitable.  I  was  very 
kind  to  Clyde,  more  so  than  I  had  been  for  months.  Once 
I  caught  his  eyes  fixed  upon  me  with  a  queer  expression  of 
inquiry — timid,  yet  full  of  meaning — which  I  dared  not  in- 
terpret according  to  the  dictates  of  my  own  feelings.  Stan- 
ley's deportment  towards  him  was  that  of  a  sister ;  he 
rarely  caressed,  never  repelled  her.  Raymond  was  the 
brightest  spirit  in  our  midst ;  he  permitted  nothing  to  mar 
the  harmony  of  our  days  together  there,  now  rapidly  draw- 
ing to  a  close. 

One  early  evening  I  sat  with  Clyde  beside  a  low  window, 
listening  to  the  crashing  waves  beneath.  Afar  out  upon 
the  trackless  deep  a  solitary  ship  was  ploughing  her  fearless 
pathway  into  the  unknown.  Clyde  spoke  no  word,  only 
pointed  to  the  isolated  sail — in  the  swift  breeze  fluttering 
like  a  thing  of  Kfe. 

"  Clyde,"  said  I,  after  a  long  pause,  "  will  you  tell  me 
why  you  will  not  let  me  call  you  brother  ? " 


THE  MONTANAS,  73 

"  Aljean,  I  have  asked  myself  that  question  many  times ; 
you  answered  it  once /or  all  time.'''' 

"  When — where  ?  "  I  asked,  in  my  eagerness. 

"In  the  parlor  at  the  Tremont  one  evening  when  we 
were  alone  together." 

What,  because  I  had  avowed  my  unrequited  love,  was 
that  sufficient  reason  why  he  should  refuse  me  his  bro- 
therly affection  ?  1  was  growing  restive  and  uncomforta- 
ble. I  was  very  glad  when  Raymond  joined  us  and  com- 
menced talking  to  Clyde  on  some  business  matter  be- 
tween them,  and  Warren,  sauntering  that  way,  claimed 
me  for  a  promenade  ;  he  held  my  hand,  as  he  always  did 
when  we  walked  together.  I  imagine  Cousin  Warren  was 
well  aware  of  the  fascination  which  his  presence  exerted ;  I 
even,  I  who  often  warred  with  him,  could  not  wholly  resist  it ; 
however  vindictive  and  resentful  in  his  absence,  I  was  inva- 
riably amicable  w^hen  he  was  by  my  side.  This  influence 
was  extended  to  all  who  came  within  the  circle  of  it.  How 
he  contrived,  under  the  semblance  of  his  kingly  indifi"er- 
ence,  to  comprehend  my  struggle  between  liking  and  dis- 
approbation— to  assimilate  these  contesting  elements  and 
cause  me  to  forget  everything  save  that  his  full  dark  eyes 
were  upon  me  in  cousinly  afi'ection  and  confidence — is  more 
than  I  shall  ever  be  able  to"  account  for.  Upon  the  occar 
sion  above  referred  to,  he  said  earnestly  : 

"  One  more  week  of  bliss,  such  as  the  gods  might  envy, 
and  then — oh!  how  desolate  I  shall  be  when  you  are 
gone !  "  Accustomed  as  was  Warren  to  this  phraseology, 
wrapping  rhetorical  tissues  about  empty  words,  oftentimes 
with  no  other  object  than  to  conceal  an  indifierence  he 
really  felt,  I  believed  him  to  be  serious  now  ;  though  for 
once  fact  was  stronger  than  fancy  ;  though  I  replied  in  a 
jesting  manner  :  "  Ha  !  ha  I  my  anchorite  has  decided  to 

4 


74  THE  MONTANAS. 

play  the  sentimentalist !  Well,  the  character  becomes  you, 
trifler  that  you  are.  Oh  !  cousin,  you  are  so  wretchedly  fickle 
there  is  no  trusting  what  you  say.  You  will  go  to  Cape  May 
or  Atlantic  City  and  forget  us  all  in  a  fortnight ;  in  antici- 
pation of  this  melancholy  oblivion  I  forewarn  you,  Stanley, 
and  I  may  follow  your  illustrious  example  in  that  regard." 

"  Jennie,  you  are  unjust  to  me  as  usual.  Even  you,  wilful 
witch  that  you  are,  I  could  not  forget  if  I  were  to  try, 
Stanley — "  lowering  his  voice  at  the  mention  of  her  name, 
until  its  tones  were  rich,  full,  almost  reverent — "to  forget 
her  would  be  to  forget  the  world  of  women,  the  universe  of 
glorious  nature,  its  birds,  flowers,  and  sunshine ;  its  light 
and  music;  the  heaven  and  hope  beyond;  in  short,  a  total 
obli\'ion  of  all  things,  for  she  is  all  of  these ;  she  is  life  itself 
to  me — ^the  only  perfect  woman  I  have  ever  known.  You 
may  look  surprised  and  incredulous,  as  I  see  you  have  a 
mind  to  do,  but  if  I  had  lived  among  such  women  I  should 
never  have  been  the  heartless  cynic,  the  male  flirt,  the  world 
esteems  me  to  day." 

"  If  Stanley  has  faith  in  your  words,  I  should  be  msane  to 
doubt  their  truth."  I  looked  into  his  face ;  he  seemed 
moody  and  reflective,  sad  withal ;  then  spoke  more  in  re- 
sponse to  his  own  thought  than  in  answer  to  my  adroitly 
worded  sui^srestion : 

"  She  does  not  know  it  yet;  shall  never  know,  unless  her 
own  heart  first  teaches  her  the  beautiful  trath." 

Quick  a?i  lightning  a  conviction  crashed  through  my  heart- 
strings. I  looked  at  "Wan-en ;  there  was  a  strange  set  fiminess 
about  his  mouth  so  unlike  the  expression  upon  Stanley's  pure 
face,  with  its  roses  and  frame-work  of  falling  curls,  as  she 
passed  us  in  the  promenade,  all  radiant  in  the  twilight,  leaning 
on  the  arm  of  Milverton.  Would  Warren  dare  to  trifle  with 
her  ?     A  bitter  rejoinder  sprang  to  my  lips,  but  the  mist 


THE  MONT  AN  AS.  75 

cleared  away  from  before  my  eyes  as  I  felt  the  magnetic 
pressure  of  his  hand,  and  felt  his  own  reading  mv  thoughts, 
while  the  serenity  that  was  habitual  to  both  resumed  its 
empire  again. 

"  No,  Warren,  you  will  not  miss  our  party ;  even  here 
there  are  some  pleasant  people,  two  or  three  whom  you 
may  find  sufficiently  charming  to  beguile  the  hours  of 
our  lamented  absence.  I  am  sure  you  will  not  lack  for 
entertainment ;  then  there  cannot  exist  the  faintest  pretext 
for  ennui  within  the  circte  of  your  favorite,  Retta  Austin. 
She  has  spirit  enough  to  animate  a  whole  party ;  she  is 
highly  combustible,  however,  and  may  at  least  endanger 
your  broadcloth.  No  one  can  tell  to  what  length  she  might 
go  in  her  wild  pranks,  if  Jane  was  not  constantly  checking 
her.  I  am  sure  you  will  not  be  permitted  to  grow  tame  in 
such  company." 

"  Miss  Austin  is  not  a  favorite  of  yours,"  remarked  Cou- 
sin Warren  loftily,  as  though  he  held  such  trifling  variances 
far  beneath  his  gentlemanly  consideration.  I  appreciated 
his  exclusiveness,  and  in  this  instance,  so  I  answered 
carelessly  :  "  Oh,  no  !  if  I  cared  anything  at  all  about  her  I 
should  do  violence  to  my  sense  of  justice  if  I  did  not  dis- 
like her  very  much.  I  understand  her  thoroughly  ;  could 
not  avoid  conning  -the  distasteful  lesson  during  my  daily 
contact  with  her  in  our  school  days.  Her  assumption  of 
artlessness,  which  she  vainly  seeks  to  vaunt  under  cover  of 
versatility,  is  but  another  cloak  for  her  wilful  and  intricate 
designs.  During  our  residence  at  the  Academy,  I  have  seen 
these  dangerous  qualities  brought  to  bear  upon  many  a 
guilelesss  school-girl  who  had  chanced  to  incur  Retta's 
haughty  displeasure  by  excelling  her  in  some  pursuit,  render- 
ing the  probability  of  her  missing  the  first  premium  almost 
certain.     In  such  cases  she  would  not  scruple  to  forge  and 


76  THE  MONTANAS. 

fabricate,  until  she  had  amassed  evidence  suflScient  to  cause 
the  young  lady's  dismissal.  Being  a  favorite  with  the  pre- 
ceptress, she  usually  succeeded  in  any  undertaking  upon 
which  she  had  set  her  head  and  heart.  Now  you  will  under- 
stand why  I  say  it  is  dangerous  to  deal  with  her,  and  why  I 
repeat  the  assertion.  If  I  had  any  feeling  other  than  perfect 
indifference  for  her,  it  would  be  one  of  distrust  and  dislike." 

"  You  are  evidently  not  a  favorite  ^vith  her  ? "  he  answered, 
seeming  to  grow  more  interested  in  my  narrative,  smiling 
meantime  at  my  warmth,  "  and  she  is  at  least  frank  enough 
in  this  instance  to  make  no  effort  to  conceal  the  fact." 

"  It  is  a  palpable  case.  I  unmasked  her  once,  and  she, 
measuring  my  spirit  by  her  own  very  narrow  one,  vaunts 
her  revenge  as  an  offset  to  the  contempt  she  imagines  I  feel 
for  her,  which  I  am  astonished  that  I  do  not  feel,  though  I 
do  not  hesitate  to  express  the  opinion  hitherto  asserted,  that 
Retta  Austin  is  a  dangerous  woman — even  as  a  friend — 
treacherous  as  lago  ! " 

"  Precisely,"  said  Cousin  Warren ;  "  and  this  is  the  woman 
into  whose  false  fair  clutches  you  would  have  me  surrender 
myself  in  the  event  of  your  absence." 

"  I  retract,  Warren,"  I  answered,  with  mock  symptoms 
of  relenting ;  "  it  may  be  dull  for  you  here,  but  you  have 
many  resources  independent  of  her  or  any  other  woman. 
I  have  accused  you  of  being  fickle  in  some  respects ;  but 
in  this  instance  the  impression  will  last  beyond  the  hour. 
I  do  not  think  it  will  fade  before  the  snow  has  fallen  to 
chill  the  life  from  your  beautiful  summer-flowers." 

We  scarce  lifted  our  eyes  in  recognition  as  a  beautiful 
woman  swept  by  us  with  a  lofty  glance,  and  just  the  pre- 
text of  a  nod  in  my  direction,  though  I  saw  her  own  bent 
in  pride  and  passion  on  Cousin  Warren ;  it  was  Retta 
Austin ;  fi*om  that  hour  I  knew  her  secret  welL 


THE  MONTANAS.  77 

At  this  juncture  Stanley  joined  us ;  Warren  offered  her 
his  arm.  I  laughingly  remarked  that  I  should  leave  them, 
through  fear  of  relapsing  into  a  terrible  third. 

"  Not  at  all,"  answered  Warren  rapidly.  "  I  have  nothing 
to  say  to  Miss  Montana  which  I  should  not  say  fearlessly  if 
all  the  world  stood  listenino-." 

True  !  I  had  seen  it  in  Stanley's  face  in  those  days  at 
Boston ;  the  pleasant  drives  to  Haverhill,  Melrose,  and  during 
long  quiet  lingerings  upon  the  velvet  turf  of  the  beautiful 
common,  with  that  bright  young  face  by  his  side,  had 
taught  her  to  love  him,  and  in  return  he  had  no  ivords  for 
her  which  all  the  world  might  not  hear.  We  three  were 
silent  for  a  long  time  ;  Warren  was  the  first  to  speak. 

"  AATiither  will  you  bend  your  course  from  here  ?  though 
really  I  shall  know  whether  you  take  the  trouble  to  answer 
me  or  not.  Satellites  invariably  gravitate  towards  the  one 
great  solar  centre.  It  will  be  thus  with  all  Miss  Montana's 
friends  and  admirers ;  there  too  in  that  bright  orbit  I  shall 
run  my  destined .  circle,  whether  to  bliss  or  misery  who 
shall  say.  Emerson,  I  think  it  was,  whose  definition  of  fate 
was  '  free  will.'  I  will  demonstrate  the  truth  or  falsity  of 
his  assertion."  Stanley's  cheeks  hung  out  white  signals  of 
pain  !     For  her  sake  I  answered  for  us  both. 

"  We  are  not  to  delegate  to  ourselves  the  slightest  com- 
pliment in  the  appropriation  of  your  well-meant  gallantry, 
cousin,  since  in  obeying  this  recognised  law  of  '  gravitation ' 
which  forces  you  into  our  orbit,  insomuch  as  you  are  so 
unwilling  a  victim  to  the  martyrdom  imposed  by  the  science 
which  governs  the  centripetal  and  centrifugal  forces  of  our 
being  ;  leaving  you  no  alternative  but  submission."  Next 
instant  I  repented  having  said  so  much.  Warreft  was  tco 
wretched  to  make  any  response  to  my  raillery ;  I  sincerely 
pitied  him  without  knowing  why  it  was  he  should  suffer  thus. 


78  THE  MONT  AX  AS. 

On  the  morning  following  we  drove  upon  the  beach. 
Raymond  had  gone  up  to  the  city  on  business;  AVarren 
took  his  place  in  the  carriage — so  there  was  only  we  four. 
Clyde  escorted  me ;  he  and  Warren  had,  it  seemed,  enjoyed 
a  much  better  understanding  of  late  ;  when  Stanley  and  I  left 
them  to  dress  for  the  drive,  they  locked  arms,  much  to  our 
surprise,  and  walked  to  and  fro  together  in  the  morning  sun- 
shine. There  were  many  things  that  to  me  were  utterly 
incomprehensible,  only  because  all  this  while  1  had  regarded 
Clyde's  passion  for  Stanley  in  the  light  of  a  stubborn  fact, 
had  grown  to  accept  it  as  a  matter  of  course,  attributing 
to  him  feelings  foreign  to  his  nature  or  intention  ;  though 
bj'  look  or  word  he  had  never,  save  in  my  estimation, 
revealed  more  than  a  brother's  affection  for  her.  What  an 
inexorable  tyrant  love  is !  often  rushing  us  blindly  into 
some  conclusion  which  brings  upon  its  swift  wings  only 
misery.  He  and  Warren  had  never  been  other  than  kind 
to  each  other,  except  in  my  thought;  baning  that  first 
bitter  siispicion  of  Clyde's  that  Warren  might  prove  traitor 
to  Stanley's  pure  young  love. 

Adovrn  the  beach  we  passed — we  four  together  in  the 
bright  morning  sunshine.  What  cool  and  refreshing 
breezes  from  the  sea !  what  exhilaration  in  the  very  air  we 
breathed !  Our  steeds  stinick  fiery  sparks  from  the  pebbly 
road  while  bearing  us  along  with  a  motion  so  rapid  it  left 
us  no  time  for  thought.  Stanley  and  WaiTcn  were  so 
happy  they  asked  of  the  Infinite  nothing  beyond  this  day 
and  its  glory ;  no  hope,  no  promise  for  the  morrow.  Be- 
tween Clyde  and  myself  there  was  only  silence  I 

"  There  is  a  silence  which  hath  been  no  sound, 
There  is  a  sUence  which  no  sound  may  be." 

I  could  find  no  word — ^he  sought  none ;  we  two  sat  thus 


THE  MOKTANAS.  79 

with  eyes  wandering  out  upon  the  sleeping  deeps — very 
stilly  they  Avere  in  the  morning  light,  which  caressed  white- 
winged  fleets  in  the  far  harbor — and  hovered  about  the 
city  with  its  surging  tides  of  human  life  with  a  radiance 
like  the  widespread  circling  pinions  of  Deity. 

We  returned  by  way  of  a  circuitous  route,  which  brought 
us  to  another  entrance  of  the  hotel :  as  we  were  beincr 
handed  from  the  carriage  by  Milverton,  who  anticipated 
our  attendants  in  the  performance  of  that  duty,  Stanley's 
dress  was  caught  and  held  by  a  tack  from  a  trunk  which 
stood  upon  the  steps,  evidently  but  just  dislodged  from  a 
travelliuo-  cab  which  vet  stood  in  waitiuo;. 

"  There  is  something  in  your  way^''  remarked  our  obse- 
quious gallant,  waggishly  glancing  from  Stanley  to  Warren, 
who  had  lent  his  efficient  service  to  disengage  the  fabric. 
He  gave  a  start  of  surprise  as  the  name  on  the  trunk — that 
of  a  rich  heiress  in  Philadelphia,  at  the  shrine  of  whose 
charins  he  had  been  a  devotee — caught  his  eye.  He  lifted 
^is  face  to  Milverton  with  a  queer  expression  neither  of  us 
understood. 

"  Come,  Warren,  old  fellow,  you  are  to  do  penance  hence- 
forth. I  will  take  my  oath  it  is  not  me  she  is  after,"  was 
Milverton's  comforting  remark  to  his  friend,  who  escorted 
Stanley  to  the  parlor,  where  he  left  her  in  a  maze  of  fitful 
abstraction,  bowing  merely,  without  requesting,  as  he  always 
did  on  leaving  us,  that  he  might  soon  be  permitted  to  see 
us  «ao:ain. 

We  spent  most  of  the  day  in  our  own  apartment.  How 
sweetly  Stanley  looked,  with  her  curls  gathered  in  a  net, 
through  whose  silken  meshes  rebellious  rings  of  gold  would 
break  fi'om  masses  of  the  chestnut,  seeming  to  mock  in  their 
sunny  radiance  the  look  of  patient  waiting  on  her  lovely 
•face.     Milverton   and   Clyde  attended   us  at  dinner,  Ray 


80  THE  MOKTANAS. 

being  still  absent ;  neither  was  "Warren  present.  When  we 
came  into  the  ball-room  in  the  evening,  he  was  there,  the 
centre  of  a  group,  an  imperious  blonde  hanging  on  his  arm. 
Her  form  was  perfect,  though  her  features  were  almost  ex- 
pressionless ;  her  blue  eyes  sleepy  without  being  languid ; 
her  manner  haughty,  almost  to  sternness.  They  were  con- 
versing with  a  pompous  grey-haired  gentleman  with  very 
heavy  watch-seal  and  gold-headed  cane,  who  I  readily 
suspected  was  her  father,  judging  from  their  resemblance  to 
each  other. 

It  was  evident  she  had  heard  of  us,  for  she  turned  to  take 
a  surv^ey  of  our  party  as  we  entered ;  Milverton,  perhaps, 
had  told  her  something,  for  her  gaze,  though  well  bred, 
seemed  to  grow  pitiless  and  hard  as  it  rested  on  Stanley. 
I  read  the  secret  of  those  hau2:htv  blue  eyes  as  I  had  done 
that  of  another  pair  of  eyes  on  the  previous  evening.  The 
deduction  was  palpable.  Warren  Hayne  was  engaged  to 
this  woman !  She  had  doubtless  been  informed,  as  I  before 
hinted,  of  his  apparent  devotion  to  the  Southern  belle,  and 
had  come  down  to  Xahant  for  the  purpose  of  warning  her 
captive  to  his  chains  again.  This  then  was  why  his  love 
for  my  friend  had  never  been  spoken  ;  why  he  would  wait 
until  Stanley's  heart  had  taught  her  the  truth.  The  dead 
weight  on  my  heart  seemed  crushing  it  into  a  far  more 
fearful  silence  than  that  which  hitherto  had  bound  it. 

Retta  Austin  went  into  a  series  of  transports  at  the 
present  aspect  of  affairs;  looked  all  kinds  of  triumph — a 
process  to  which  Stanley  appeared  entirely  oblivious  and 
impervious — as  she  swept  down  the  centre  of  the  room, 
leaninor  on  the  arm  of  her  handsome  brother,  peerless,  defy- 
ing competition ;  a  shower  of  white  tulle  falling  in  snowy 
waves  about  her  person,  swaying  with  each  graceful  undu- 
lation of  her  lithe  form — the  very  impersonation  of  "  Holmes's 


THE  MONTANA  S.  81 

golden  blonde."  I  had  never  been  so  proud  of  ber  as  at  that 
moment.  "  The  arrowy  light "  seemed  to  follow  and  lin2:er 
with  her ;  a  very  spirit  of  loveliness  "  brightening  the  scene." 
If  my  darling  was  heart-sick,  Warren  Hajoie  should  not  know 
it.  How  in  my  soul  I  honored  that  brave  little  woman  for 
the  manner  in  which  she  kept  this  resolve !  I  saw  how  War- 
ren's eyes  followed  her,  the  same  deep  mystery  and  subdued 
lustre  in  their  depths  which  I  had  seen  there  in  the  mominrr. 

Many  of  Stanley's  admirers  at  Nahant,  who  had  given 
way  to  him  as  to  one  having  superior  claims — partly  from  re- 
spect to  Mr.  Hayne,  again  because  they  cared  not  to  come  into 
open  competition  with  that  gentleman,  in  a  race  for  favor,  in- 
volving certain  defeat  to  themselves — now  seeing  his  immola- 
tion, gathered  about  her  in  mute  profession  of  the  homage 
they  felt.  She  appeared  so  gay,  so  brilliantly  animated,  even 
I  was  puzzled  to  decide  if  the  assumption  was  real.  It  was 
strange  to  see  how  composed  and  self-sustained  she  was ; 
while  he  was  correspondingly  moody,  sullen,  and  wretched. 
The  chain  he  had  worn  so  lightly  hitherto,  now  galled  him 
bitterly.  I  had  never  known  this  polished  man  of  the 
world  so  entirely  at  a  loss  as  upon  that  occasion. 

Milverton,  considerate  fellow  that  he  was,  charitably 
claimed  Warren's  fiancee  for  a  polka;  it  was  amusing  to 
behold  with  what  alacrity  he  resigned  her  to  his  friend  and 
came  at  once  to  us.  When  within  the  enchanted  circle  of 
Stanley's  pure  presence  "  Richard  was  himself  again."  She 
smiled  calmly,  never  once  by  look  or  act  admitting  that 
she  felt  his  omission  of  the  morning ;  for  he  had  been  so 
constant  previously  in  his  devotion  to  our  party  it  could 
be  regarded  in  no  other  light.  He  was  piqued  at  her  appa- 
rent indifference,  and  grew  positively  angry  when  some 
favored  friend  of  Raymond's  led  her  forward  to  the  dance. 

Ah !  how  vain  his  wrath  then !     I  smiled  when  my  eyes 

4* 


82  TEE  MONTANA  S. 

sought  those  of  our  tragedy  king,  for  I  really  enjoyed  his 
discomfiture. 

"  I  imagine  you  have  enjoyed  a  charming  tete-a-tete 
with  your  new-found  friend,"  I  remarked,  as  he  came 
nearer.     With  cool  sarcasm  he  answered  : 

"  To  those  who  do  not  know  better  I  might  admit  that 
I  had ;  but  to  you,  who  are  informed  that  the  contrary  is 
true,- 1  do  not  hesitate  to  repeat  /  have  not^  Retta  Aus- 
tin watched  him  from  a  distant  sofa,  never  once  taking  her 
black  eyes,^  which  shone  like  basilisks,  from  his  face. 

"  Cousin  Warren,"  I  said  again,  more  gently  now,  for  I 
pitied  him,  though  with  terrible  meaning  in  my  words,  for 
I  also  pitied  Stanley,  "you  have  two  women's  hearts 
under  your  heel !  Which  will  you  decide  to  crush,  one  or 
both?"  He  sprang  hastily  at  the  conclusion  ;  speaking  so 
vehemently,  I  was  really  alarmed  to  see  the  cold,  proud 
man  thus  moved. 

"Tell  me  frankly,  Jenny — much  depends  upon  my 
knowledge  of  these  facts — do  you  think  Miss  Montana 
cares  in  the  least  for  me,  or  does  she  love  Ingram? 
If  I  could  bring  myself  to  feel  they  really  loved  each 
other,  my  course  would  then  be  clear;  I  should  not 
for  an  instant  hesitate.  In  the  other  instance  to  which 
there  is  reference  in  your  meaning,  I  can  assure  you  there 
would  be  no  heart  broken,  simply  because  there  is  none  to 
break.  On  the  contrary,  if  I  should  crush  Stanley's,  with 
it  I  should  set  an  iron  heel  upon  my  own.  I  have  not 
spoken  a  tithe  of  what  is  in  my  heart  for  her,  because  in 
many  regards  it  seemed  not  quite  honorable  so  to  do: 
though  to  none  other  am  I  bound  by  a  positive  promise. 
Miss  Straw-bridge,  in  our  New  York  circle,  has  been  so 
accustomed  to  receive  my  attention  she  has  come  to  look 
upon  it  as  a  matter  of  course  to  regard  the  monopoly  as 


THE  MONTANA  S.  83 

her  right  rather  than  her  pri\dlege.  Tell  me,  Jennie,  be- 
fore Miss  Montana  joins  us  again;  I  must  know,  and  shall 
know  sooner  or  later." 

"  Question  your  own  heart,  Warren,  if  hers  has  not 
long  since  taught  her  this  lesson  ?  follow  whither  this 
knowledge  may  lead  you." 

He  gave  his  arm  to  Stanley  as  she  came  up  flushed  with 
the  exercise  of  dancing  ;  she  leant  upon  it,  paling  slightly 
beneath  his  burning  gaze.  The  atmosphere  of  the  room 
furnished  sufficient  pretext  for  his  leading  her  to  the  veran- 
da that  they  might  get  a  cool  breath  from  the  sea.  AATien 
they  passed  the  low  window  near  to  which  I  sat,  I  saw 
that  he  had  taken  both  her  hands  in  his,  and  heard  him 
ask  distinctly,  in  tones  hoarse  with  suspense  and  suf- 
ferino; : 

"  Shall  not  this  wretched  mockery  cease  ? " 
I  heard  not  the  answer  she  gave,  for  just  then  I  went  to 
dance  with  Clyde.  Once,  as  we  again  neared  the  window,  I 
saw  them  walking  to  and  fro.  I  could  not  forbear  a  trium- 
phant leer  in  the  direction  of  Miss  Austin  in  retaliation  for 
the  glance  she  had  sent  after  Stanley  early  in  the  evening. 
The  quadrille  ended ;  we  two,  Clyde  and  myself,  came 
out  to  join  them  where  they  stood  looking  out  upon  the 
broad  expanse  of  water,  over  which  the  solitary  ship  with 
single  sail  had  passed  to  the  further  tides.  How  deep  and 
dark  appeared  that  sea,  outspread  under  the  stars  of  hea- 
ven !  A  cold,  white  moon  uprose  in  the  sky.  What 
should  we  prophesy  ?  There  was  no  speck  or  blemish  in  all 
its  bright  expanse.  The  ship  was  out  of  sight,  swift  glid- 
ing towards  a  port  of  the  unknown.  Again  the  bright 
river,  as  it  ran  through  my  morning  dream,  crossed  my 
memory.  A  beam  from  the  ghastly-faced  moon,  as  she 
skulked  within  the  gathering  mists,  cast  of  Stanley  and 


84  THE  MONTANA  S. 

WaiTen  a  joint  image  on  the  sanded  floor,  "  while  pulse  to 
pulse  and  heart  to  heart  was  beating  " — one  little  shadow 
united,  nothing  more ! 

Was  this  the  all  of  love  immortal  as  Deity?  We  shall 
see. 

Overhead  God'i  stars  were  shining !  Beneath  their  ra- 
diance we  trod  the  pathway  of  in\'incible  destiny. 


CHAPTER  YI. 

"  There  is  no  future  pang 
Can  deal  the  justice  on  the  self-condemned, 
He  deals  on  his  soul." 

Bybok's  Manfbed. 

"  Stan,  you  little  princess  ! "  exclaimed  Raymond,  kissing 
her  with  great  vehemence,  when  the  engagement  was  made 
known  to  him ;  "  Hayne  is  the  best  match  in  all  New  York ! 
Half  the  women  there  are  dying  for  him ;  he  is  a  kind  of 
Adonis." 

"  How  sublimely  selfish,  Ray,"  I  ejaculated,  by  way  of 
response ;  "  you  expect  to  settle  in  this  locality.  I  have 
not  forgotten  your  penchant  for  Mary  Kingswell." 

"  Neither  have  I,"  he  answered,  smiling.  "  By  the  way, 
Jennie,  how  does  it  happen  you  did  not  succeed  in  captivat- 
ing some  one  of  the  legion  beaux  at  Xahant  ?  You  might 
well  have  '  stooped  to  conquer '  another  so  elegant  a  fellow 
as  Warren." 

I  dared  not  look  up — I  was  conscious  that  Clyde's  eyes 
were  upon  me  ;  when  once  for  an  instant  I  met  his  glance, 
it  was  so  full  of  as^onized  tender  reo^ret  (for  Stanlev's  loss  I 
thought),  tempered  with  an  appeal  that  was  like  gall  to 
my  spirit,  remembered  in  after  years. 


THE  MONTANA  S.  85 

Leaving  Milverton  and  Havne  at  the  sea- side,  we  came 
back  to  Ridgely  in  the  grey  gloaming  of  an  early  autumn 
morn.     We  four ;  the  atmosphere    of  a  nameless   change 
about  us,  other  than  the  one  we  knew  of,  into  which  had 
been  infused  the  subtle  essence  of  a  new  presence.     Sur- 
rounded by  love's    delightful  atmosphere,  Stanley  glided 
back  into  the  quiet  life  so  long  forsaken.     Somehow  we  all 
fell  into  the  home  ways  at  Ridgely,  naturally  as  though  we 
had  never  left  them  off;  and  the  calm,  broad,  peaceful  cur- 
rent had  not  been  turned  aside,  and  we  tried  our  strenoth 
upon  a  deeper  ocean  of   thought,   feeling,   and   suffering. 
There  were  our  mornings  breaking  in  glorious  light  and 
beauty  over  the  New  Hampshire  hills ;  and  our  evenings, 
when  the  father  joined  us  in  our  walks  upon  the  terrace  or 
lounged  with  Ray  and  Clyde  upon  the  velvet  turf,  whilst 
we  wove  acacia  buds  into  wreaths  and  tied  frail  mignonette 
blossoms  into  garlands  for  their  brows,  thinking  how  the 
dead  wife  in  Ike  Marvel's  "Reveries"  had  loved  it;  and 
what  a  sad  thing  it  would  be  to  exchange  the  beautiful 
world,  with  its  flowers  and   sunshine,  for  the  decay  and 
darkness  of  that  terrible  realm   of  the   unknown.     There 
were  no  unquiet  thoughts  in  this  dreamy  spot ;  we  had  left 
the  tumult  amid  the  gaieties  of  Nahant— in  the  heat  and 
dust  of  the  great  metropolis.     The  glow  came  back  even 
to  Clyde's  classic  face,  and  a  strange  prophetic  rest  to  my 
own  tired  heart. 

How  graduaUy,  yet  naturally,  Ray  and  Mary  came  to 
withdraw  themselves  from  our  midst;  and  during  long, 
golden  afternoons,  to  wander  off  in  shady  by-paths  to  con- 
verse in  gentler,  deeper  tones— in  short,  to  love  each  other 
more  than  all  the  world  beside.  I  have  never  known  a 
couple  so  entirely  assimilated  in  disposition,  taste,  and  feel- 
ing.    Love  to  them  was  a  calm,  placid  stream,  upon  which 


86  THE  MONTANAS. 

to  launch  their  bark  of  life,  whose  current  was  a  deeper 
peace.  To  us  was  left  the  regal  flow,  over  whose  crystal 
deeps  we  dashed  onward  mid  rocks,  wrecks  to  the  eternal 
sea  outspread  beyond.  Is  there  a  fate  linking  the  least  of 
these  sentiments  with  the  Infinite  ?  and  must  the  process 
needs  be  one  of  simple  peace  or  deep,  deep  suffering,  ac- 
cording as  our  natures  require  the  chastening  ?  Through  tho 
medium  of  these  tender  heart-chords  does  the  Father  seek 
to  draw  unto  Himself  agraiu  His  world-wan derinor  children. 

I  remember  one  evening,  Stanley's  head,  with  its  wealth 
of  golden  brightness,  was  resting  on  my  shoulder  while  the 
gentlemen  talked.  Mr.  Kingswell  conversed  with  them  fre- 
quently and  earnestly ;  he  never  opened  his  mouth  but 
pearls  of  wisdom  dropped  from  it.  How  sagely  he  dealt 
with  life  !  Each  simple  stricture  contained  a  lesson  worth 
enshrining.  We  were  fully  conscious  that  his  words  were 
per^^aded  by  a  deeper,  more  subtle  philosophy  than  sages 
usually  propagate  or  men  of  God  at  all  times  practise.  On 
this  occasion  their  subject  was  one — a  man  who  was  es- 
teemed among  the  great  of  this  earth.  Clyde  remarked, 
cursorily : 

"  I  truly  s}Tnpathize  with  him ;  he  has  outlived  his 
generation,  or  rather  he  has  fallen  behind  the  age  in  which 
he  lived.  Companions  of  his"^  mid-life  orgies  are  widely 
scattered  ;  of  all  who  revelled  with  him,  very  few"  are  left ; 
many  who  set  out  with  him  at  the  commencement  of  the 
journey  have  passed  on.  He  walks  the  streets  of  his  ow^n 
city ;  the  curious  peer  at  him  from  every  window ;  old, 
familiar  faces  one  by  one  have  gone  further  into  the  mists 
beyond;  homes  where  he  was  wont  to  go  at  evening,  an 
ever-welcome  guest,  bear  strange  inscriptions  upon  their 
door-plates.  What  must  be  his  feeling  to  know  the  world 
that  he  has  served  through  all  his  life  has 'thus  changed  to 


THE  MONTANA  S.  87 

him  ?  The  reflection  must  indeed  be  a  melancholy  one ; 
for  he  too  is  changed  and  grown  unacquainted  with  its 
simplest  usages.  I  can  think  of  no  one  more, deserving  my 
pity,  and  that  of  all  men." 

"  How  few  of  our  great  men,"  remarked  Mr.  Kingswell  in 
answer,  "  learn,  until  some  unpleasant  necessity  forces  upon 
them  the  simple  truth — the  world  is  Satan's  taskmaster ! 
Those  who  do  most  to  deserve  its  favor  are  those  who 
oftentimes  incur  its  severest  censure.  Besides,  this  man 
was  a  faithful  disciple  of  his  tutor;  he  has  been  one  of  the 
most  noted  Hbertines  of  his  day.  How  many  a  simple- 
minded  girl,  chaste  and  pure  before  breathing  the  dreadful 
miasma  surrounding  him,  has  taken  then  the  first  step  in 
that  downward  path  within  whose  mazes  he,  the  last  of  all 
his  victims,  has  lost  the  way  ;  perhaps  for  all  eternity.  To 
such  I  accord  my  sympathy  and  regard  as  exceedingly 
unjust ;  a  tribunal  which  would  exclude  from  all  charity  his 
-victims,  while  exalting  and  heaping  its  honors  upon  the 
man  who  has  made  these  heartless  triumphs,  and  consti- 
tuted them  the  stepping-stones  to  advancement  within  the 
^rea  of  his  ignominious  celebrity." 

Raymond  here  observed  between  pufls  of  his  Havana,  omi- 
nously incorporating  with  white  wreaths,  blue  ones  of  smoke  : 

"  The  vanity  and  self-lov  e  of  some  men  are  absolutely  dis- 
gusting ;  judging  from  the  manner  in  which  they  parade 
their  debaucheries,  one  might  imagine  they  considered  every 
species  of  error  in  which  they  chose  to  indulge  as  being 
really  exalted  by  their  august  participation.  After  having 
warred  all  their  lives  through  with  purity  and  uprightness, 
at  last,  upon  the  score  of  their  very  degradation,  claiming 
amnesty  from  the  God  of  truth  and  justice." 

Mr.  Kingswell  then  remarked : 

"  Ah !  but  they  cannot  do  this ;  it  is  not  in  the  power  of 


88  THE  MONTANA  S. 

man  to  do.  Even  tliose  whose  souls  commune  witb  and  in- 
terpret rightly  the  commands  and  exactions  of  Deity — those 
who  are  mighty  in  intellect — who  can  make  stepping-stones 
of  mountain  peaks,  and  move  within  an  area  of  the  stars — 
cannot  sin  without  coming  dowTi  from  those  proud  heights 
for  which  they  have  toiled,  thus  nearing  the  everlasting 
sun.  The  spirit  just  begun  to  rejoice  in  its  freedom  is 
dragged  back  to  the    dusty  highway  of  earth,  where   it 

grovelled  first  ere  its  fetters  were  rent  in  twain.     R is 

one  who  has  thus  sinned  in  the  face  of  Revelation  and  con- 
science, possessing  the  fine  tastes  of  a  mind  born  to  a 
hifirher  heritage.  When  tlie  awakening  comes,  and  these 
faculties  assert  themselves,  he  will  be  of  all  men  the  most 
miserable.  He  may  wrap  gaudy  tissues  about  the  form  of 
sin ;  but  she  will  one  day  shake  them  ofi",  and  appear  before 
him  in  all  her  loathsome  deformity;  a  coarse,  repulsive 
courtezan,  assuming  a  thousand  disgusting  and  repulsive 
aspects  with  which  his  higher  nature  cannot  longer  assimi- 
late. The  soul  will  not  trail  its  glory-tipped  pinions  'mid 
the  dust  of  the  senses ;  heavenward  it  soars ;  ofttimes  then 

is  the  afiiliation  but  very  mockery.     I  think  R has 

come  to  feel  this  already  !  The  soul  has  proclaimed  her 
heritage  of  freedom  ;  the  sun  is  going  down  upon  the.  last 
slopes  westward  lying,  yet  is  the  mortal  part  still  bound  by 
a  thousand  jagged  tissues  to  the  rack  of  past  and  present 
transorressions  ;  the  age  runs  its  round  of  days  without  hira. 
Hence,  upon  the  earth,  he  who  ever  bent  so  ready  a  knee 
at  the  shrine  of  her  pleasures  is  now  a  stranger  and  pilgrim. 
'\Miat  account  shall  such  a  man  render,  not  only  of  what 
has  been  done,  which  it  were  better  to  have  left  undone, 
but  what  might  hare  been  accomplished  had  he  not  per- 
mitted selfish  indulgence  to  blind  the  true,  far-seeing  eyes 
of  immortal  destiny." 


THE  MONT  AN  AS.  SO 

Here  a  shadow  crossed  the  starlight,  sleeping  on  the 
grass-plat  at  our  feet ;  and  the  figure  of  a  woman,  bearing 
in  her  arms  a  child,  sank  down  as  in  supplication  ;  the 
light  on  her  clearly  cut  features — so  wan,  suffering,  and 
pale — showed  to  me  the  face  of  Leah  Eldridge,  the  friend 
of  my  childhood,  now,  alas,  a  mother,  who  bore  still  her 
maiden  name  !  I  uttered  a  sharp,  shrill  cry,  as  I  recoo-nised 
her.  Mr.  Kingswell  stooping,  raised  the  poor  creature, 
who  had  sunk  from  exhaustion  on  the  stone  steps,  had 
Mien  really  with  such  force  as  to  cause  a  serious  contusion 
on  one  of  her  temples.  Those  kind  arms  lifted  and  carried 
her  into  the  house,  while  Mrs.  Kingswell  took  up  the  baby, 
a  bright  little  fellow  of  perhaps  a  year  old,  with  dark-flow- 
ing curls,  very  pretty  I  saw  at  a  glance ;  I  also  saw,  when 
we  came  into  the  home  light,  not  half  a  century  of  years 
could  so  thoroughly  have  changed  my  friend  as  that  one 
year  of  sorrowing  repentance  had  done. 

Some  lives  can  only  be  brought  to  sin  by  being  borne  out 
of  their  usual  channels ;  when  once  the  impelling  force  is 
removed  that  turned  aside  the  pure,  steady  current,  they 
surge  back  again  to  the  upright  course,  and  mirror  the 
same  beautiful  soul-thoughts  as  before  the  beauteous  spirit 
wings  were  trailed  amid  the  dust  and  blight  of  the  sunless 
way.  I  saw  instantly  how  this  was  true  with  Leah.  I  hold 
with  Mr.  Kingswell  that  sin  can  never  be  exalted ;  it  is  a 
bitter  draught  to  some  who  feel  that  they  would  rather  toil, 
work,  starve,  die,  than  drain  its  cup  to  the  bitter  dregs. 

This  brave  resolution  was  written  where  I  readily  translat- 
ed it  in  the  white  look  of  anguished  endeavor  on  Leah's  pite- 
ous face  ;  in  the  clothes  she  wore,  the  tatters  that  enwrapped 
her  boy ;  in  her  readiness  to  face  all,  that  she  might  find  one 
who  would  aid  her  in  coming  back,  one  who  w^ould  not 
simply  tell  her  she  had  taken  the  wrong  turning,  but  who 


90  THE  MOXTANAS. 

would  point  out  the  way  and  means  by  which  she  might 
return  to  the  forsaken  path  of  right.  Did  Mr.  Kiiigswcll 
esteem  himself  too  holy  to  do  this  for  one  so  stricken  and 
powerless  as  my  poor  fallen  friend  ?  All  these  thoughts 
came  to  me  as  I  bathed  the  wan  temples  from  which  the 
life-blood  was  freely  flowing. 

"  I  think  some  angel  must  have  guided  me  here,"  she 
said  faintly,  as  if  in  a  kind  of  dream.  "  How  I  prayed 
God  he  would  take  me  somewhere,  anywhere,  out  from 
under  those  cruel  stars  which  seem  to  pierce  me  like  the  eyes 
of  doom.  I  used  to  love  them  once,  long  ago,  but  stars 
are  an  awful  thing  to  the  homeless — shuiing  afar  off,  like 
the  light  of  joys  we  dare  not  hope  to  know  again.  Though 
henceforth  I  will  say  no  haimful  word  of  the  stars ;  they 
brought  me  here ;  and  oh !  if  you  knew  all :  what  I  have 
suffered  in  my  prolonged  and  painful  struggle  with  the 
world  for  work,  for  life,  for  myself  and  child,  I  am  sure  you 
would  not  send  me  away.  I  will  labor  for  you  all  my  life 
through ;  I  will  be  your  faithful  slave  even,  unless  you  really 
force  me  out  into  that  wide,  hard  world  again.  I  shoidd 
faint  in  the  heat  of  its  noonday  suns,  with  my  sinful  burden. 
I  could  stand  it  no  longer;  I  can  only  die,  should  this 
last  resource  fail  me,  this  appeal  to  you,  Mr.  Kingswell, 
who  was  my  mother's  friend."  She  wept  here.  ^  I  pressed 
her  hand  gently,  and  wiped  away  the  blinding  tears  from 
her  eyes ;  then  she  looked  at  me ;  a  gleam  of  recognition 
overspread  her  wan  features,  but  it  faded  swiftly  as  it  came, 
for  it  seemed  the  sense  of  her  true  condition.  Her  shame  so 
utterly  overpowered  her  she  could  only  exclaim,  brokenly — 
"  Aljean  Montana,  is  it  you  ?  Oh !  how  wide  the  space 
between  us  has  grown  !  yet  I  remember  you  well,  as 
though  it  were  but  yesterday  we  parted.  I  know  not  your 
way  since,  but  mine  has  been  through  an  endless  winter.    I 


THE  MOXTANAS.  91 

have  fallen,  Jennie,  very  low,  but  do  not  censure  your  poor 
friend ;  may  you  never  know  what  it'  is  to  love  as  I  have 
loved ;  forgive  me,  you  do  not  know  all ;  I  am  unworthy 
even  to  look  upon  your  face,  yet  you  hold  my  hand  and 
bathe  my  brow — mine,  poor,  miserable,  destitute  as  I 
am." 

I  heard  a  voice  say — it  was  Raymond^s,  fiery,  impulsive 
Raymond's — "  Come  away,  Jennie."  Then  another  voice — 
soft,  tender  like  Jesus  must  once  have  spoken — "  Let  her 
remain  ;  this  woman  was  her  friend  !  She  needs  her  now." 
It  was  Mr.  KingsweU's.  Then  both  young  men  came  and 
stood  beside  me  while  I  bathed  her  brow,  saying  in  turn 
to  the  host :  "  What  shall  you  do  with  her  ? " 

'•  What  shall  I — what  can  I  do  ?  The  way  of  the  trans- 
gressor is  hard  ;  we  should  not  seek  to  make  it  harder.  I 
feel  I  have  no  right  to  cast  at  her  the  first  stone,  if  in  truth 
I  have  a  right  to  cast  any  stone  at  all."  Raymond  look- 
ed abashed  and  humbled;  the  more  so  when  Mrs.  Kings- 
well,  in  her  soft,  mild  voice,  came  closer  to  Leah  and  laid 
her  sleeping  boy  upon  the  couch  beside  her,  saying  gently  : 
"  Do  not  weep  so,  child ;  you  shall  not  be  sent  away ;  we 
will  try  to  find  you  a  home  of  refuge  from  the  cold,  wide 
world  you  dread  so  much,  which  has  in  truth  dealt  v^ery 
hardly  with  you.     Now  go  to  sleep  and  rest." 

That  wife  had  her  earthly  reward  in  the  look  which  her 
husband  bestowed  upon  her  as  we  were  leaving  the  apart- 
ment.    It  was  the  seal  of  her  sacrifice. 

On  the  following  morning,  at  Mr.  KingsweU's  request,  I 
walked  with  him  to  see  Captain  Bob  Eldridge  ;  to  inform 
him  of  Leah's  state,  and  her  presence  at  Ridgely.  The 
poor  girl  shook  her  head  when  she  knew  we  were  going, 
and  said  it  would  be  of  no  use ;  she  was  sure  her  father 
could  never  foro'ive  her,  or  receive  her ;  we  surmised  that 


92  THE  MONTANAS. 

she  was  right  in  her  conviction ;  but  duty  seemed  to  point 
in  that  direction,  so  we  went. 

It  was  a  mournful  spectacle  that  met  my  eyes ;  Captain 
Bob  sitting  still  in  the  solitary  house,  as  I  had  always  re- 
membered him  sitting  there  after  his  dead  wife  was  borne 
away — grimly,  as  though  he  had  for  companions  the  ghosts 
of  departed  fancies.  lie  scarce  raised  his  brow  when  we 
entered ;  and  even  in  that  faint  effort  there  was  no  uplifting 
of  the  spirit  to  sustam  the  motion.  In  one  brief  glance  I 
saw  how  his  daughter's  shame — that  more  cruel  scourge 
than  sorrow  for  the  dead — had  ploughed  deep  furrows  down 
his  cheets,  and  burned  a  deep,  deep  record  on  his  brow. 
His  hair,  grey  and  thin  as  I  remembered  it,  was  entirely 
gone  now,  sa\ang  a  small  patch  on  either  temple.  I  was 
more  affected  by  this  speechless  lethargy  than  I  could  have 
been  by  any  words  he  might  have  uttered.  I  went  nearer 
to  his  side,  smoothing  his  bare  crown  with  my  ungloved 
hand — questioned  him  regarding  his  knowledge  of  the  past 
and  of  me. 

"  Who  asks  if  I  know  them  ? "  he  ansTjjrered  querulously ; 
"  I  know^  no  one ;  not  even  my  own  child."  His  voice,  as 
he  said  those  words  of  Leah,  grew  almost  fierce;  he 
stamped  in  rage  upon  the  floor.  I  saw  that  he  was  al- 
most mad ;  how  terrible,  and  yet  I  had  heard  of  his  ha\ing 
been  in  this  state  for  months  at  a  time.  The  worst  form  of 
madness  is  that  which  never  loses  consciousness  long  enough 
to  become  cured  of  grief.  Mr.  Kingswell,  thinking  this 
opportunity  as  favorable  as  any  that  might  occur,  stepped  to 
the  other  side  of  the  old  man,  speaking  very  kindly  but 
firmly  of  his  wish  and  purpose : 

"  It  is  of  that  child — your  daughter,  the  knowledge  of 
whom  you  have  this  hour  denied — that  I  came  here  to 
talk  to  you.     She  has  found  her  way  to  my  house  after 


THE  MONTANAS.  93 

having  suffered  much ;  more  than  you  and  I,  my  friend, 
can  ever  know.  Will  you  not  pardon  her  ?  She  is  stUl 
your  own  ;  years  of  error  on  her  part  could  never  obliterate 
the  tie  that  binds  you  to  her;  despite  your  course,  a  few 
bitter  words  could  not  break  it — a  few  kind  ones  would 
make  it  strong  again.  She  is  yours  still — yours  and  God's 
— who  will  not  lose  sight  of  her  in  her  brave  strivings  to 
find  the  forsaken  way.  He  will  light  her  feet,  and  I  myself 
righteously  believe  she  means  to  walk  in  it,  with  His  help, 
to  the  end.  You,  too,  will  help  her ;  she  will  repay  you,  I 
am  sure,  by  taking  this  sting  of  grief  and  shame  from  out 
your  poor  old  heart.  I  ask  in  behalf  of  Christ  who  died 
for  sin ;  in  the  name  of  her  dead  mother — in  the  name  of 
the  God  who  shall  one  day  pass  sentence  upon  us  all — to 
take  her  into  your  home  and  heart  again ;  there  let  your 
child  find  rest  and  peace !  " 

I  could  not  fail  to  observe  all  the  while  Mr.  Kingswell 
spoke  how  Captain  Bob  quivered  like  an  aspen  leaf;  I 
thought  him  a  prey  to  some  revengeful  emotion ;  perhaps 
he  remembered  still  that  his  dead  wife  had  said  to  him  one 
day :  "Kobei-t,  you  are  unjust  to  William."  How  like  the 
eloquence  of  that  long  silent  voice  were  the  tones  to  which 
he  listened  now,  I  fancied  with  some  sign  of  relenting; 
but  the  memory  only  served  to  gall  him  more.  Almost 
any  other  would  have  been  a  more  successful  ambassador 
just  then ;  yet  the  cause  was  a  just  one,  and  would  triumph 
in  the  end. 

"Are  you  here,  William  Kingswell?"  exclaimed  the  old 
man,  surprisedly — every  fibre  starting  into  new  vitality,  as 
his  voice  attained  fresh  vigor ;  "  I  have  sworn  you  should 
never  enter  my  door.  That  you  have  forced  me  to  break 
my  oath  to  the  dead,  is  retribution  dire.  Leave  me,  I  com- 
mand you,  or  I  swear  anew  you  shall  be  compelled  to  go ; 


94  THE  MONTANA  S. 

there  is  yet  sufficient  strength  in  the  right  ann  of  Bob 
Eldridge  to  expel  you  summarily."  He  would  have  fallen  in 
his  agitation,  the  poor,  feeble  old  man,  whom  I  knew  strong 
and  well,  had  I  not  forced  him  back  into  his  chair  gently, 
so  gently,  he  was  scarcely  aware  of  the  action.  Mr.  Kings- 
well  faced  him  fearlessly. 

"  You  mistake  me  strangely,  my  friend,  if  you  imagine 
for  an  instant  I  came  here  to  taunt  or  annoy  you.  I  have 
told  what  I  wish  to  say  concerning  Leah ;  you  still  persist 
in  refusing  to  see  and  receive  her;  she  is  under  my  pro- 
tection, and  shall  remain  with  me,  since  I  must  resign  the 
hope  of  being  able  to  place  the  poor  girl  under  her  father's 
roof.  Since  that  may  not  be,  I  must  not  refuse  to  do  for 
her  what  I  can  myself,  and  with  God's  aid  I  will."  Finding 
his  office  of  peacemaker  at  an  end,  he  readily  accepted  that 
of  protector. 

The  old  man,  thoroughly  aroused  by  this  unconscious 
assumption  on  the  part  of  Mr.  Kingswell,  answered  him  in 
tones  full  of  withering  scorn : 

"  You  can  well  aflPord  to  assume  the  office  of  general  dis- 
penser in  cases  involving  the  slightest  omi^ion  of  duty  on 
the  part  of  others,  whose  acts  do  not  so  much  concern  you; 
but  have  you  always  played  the  philanthropist,  and  been 
thus  prodigal  to  your  own  flesh  and  blood  ?  At  whose 
mandate  did  one  fair  and  beautiful  and  good  go  away  from 
you,  never  to  return  ? — for  she  went  long  ago  to  that  bourne 
from  whence  no  pilgi-im  may  return.  Who  was  unforgiving 
then  ?  Who  closed  the  doors  of  home  and  heart  in  that 
long-past  time  ?  William  Kingswell,  you  have  commenced 
too  late." 

I  looked  at  Clyde's  uncle ;  the  old  man's  manner  was 
menacing,  and  his  tones  w^ere  full  of  sneering,  when  he  had 
hurled  the  last  shaft  at  his  ancient  enemy.     The  dart  had 


THE  MOm'AN'AS.  95 

not  reached  its  aim;  Mr.  Kingswell  was  impemous  to 
keener  shafts  even  than  these ;  he  was  so  accustomed  to 
probe  his  own  heart  and  lay  it  bare  to  his  Creator.  Un- 
marred  was  all  the  glorious  inner  life  save  bv  this  mistake 
of  his  youth.  He  was  calm  as  one  who  had  triumphed 
over  remorse,  and  the  victory  thus  achieved  was  through 
long  sutFering,  of  which  there  was  no  trace  now,  however, 
only  deep,  painful  anxiety  in  his  tones,  when  he  said  tremu- 
lously : 

"  Tell  me,  my  friend,  if  you  know  aught  of  her — that 
poor,  erring  child  ?  I  would  give  a  world  to  know  her  fate, 
if  I  possessed  one." 

"  ^\Tiat  would  you  know,  William  Kingswell ;  more  per- 
haps than  I  should  care  to  tell  you,  if  I  could  ?  Let  me 
alone ;  I  ask  of  you  nothing,  only  that  you  will  leave  me." 
He  pointed  impatiently  to  the  door.  Feeling  that  nothing 
could  be  gained  by  remaining,  we  left  the  old  man  to  his 
solitudes,  and  came  sorrowfully  up  the  slopes  to  Ridgely. 

It  was  hard  to  meet  the  expectant  look  in  Leah's  face, 
and  have  no  answering  word  of  comfort  to  give  her.  She 
saw  how  it  was — as  it  had  been ;  tears  trickled  down  the 
pale,  thin  cheeks,  and  fell  upon  the  brown  curls  of  her  bov. 
"Your  effort  has  not  been  altogether  hopeless,  Leah; 
you  shall  stay  here  as  long  as  you  like ;  this  shall  be  your 
home  while  you  choose  to  make  it  so." 

With  one  of  those  s.vift,  sudden  impulses  which  in  the 
erring  seem  the  upheaving  of  a  better  nature — hidden,  but 
not  destroyed — she  threw  herself  at  the  feet  of  Mr.  Kings- 
well ;  too  full  of  gratitude,  she  held  her  benefactor's  hands, 
while  her  tears  fell  down  like  rain. 

"  Leah,"  he  said,  solemnly ;  "  do  not  thank  me ;  there  is 
one  to  whom  your  gratitude  is  more  directly  du€."  She 
understood  him,  and  clasped  anew  her  hands  in  earnest  prayer. 


96  THE  MONTANAS. 

And  thus  it  came  to  pass  tliat  Leah  Eldridge  came  into 
the  household  at  Ridgely,  and  took  her  place  henceforth  as 
one  of  its  inmates.  How  strangely  such  things  come  about  I 
We  have  never  since  had  cause  to  regret  what  we  did  then, 
though  in  many  instances  we  could  not  have  acted  thus 
with  impunity.  There  is  no  standard  by  which  to  estimate 
error  in  degree  so  true,  so  just,  as  that  of  manifest  sincere 
repentance.  Then,  again,  we  know  that  God  is  the  God  of 
the  wretched,  and  Christ  their  Saviour.  Who  shall  hide 
his  glorious  beneficence  from  the  eyes  of  the  world-weary, 
whose  sin  by  tears  of  bitter  suffering  has  been  washed  out  ? 

Once  more  into  our  season  of  content  came  the  image 
of  Warren  Hayne,  bringing  brightness,  yet  dispensing 
shadows  he  had  left  in  the  void  where  his  presence  was 
not. 

But  Clyde !  I  could  not  understand  him,  his  conduct 
seemed  so  strange.  I  was  sure  he  loved  Stanley,  though 
when  her  engagement  had  been  first  made  known  to  him 
he  evinced  little  feeling,  only  I  imagined  I  saw  the  ago- 
nized regret  burning  deep  in  his  soul-full  eyes.  How  I 
worshipped  this  man !  even  though  he  seemed  towering 
high  above  me,  as  if  his  soul  was  set  among  the  stars,  in 
whose  light  I  walked,  where  his  feet  too  trod  on  the  hard 
earth  way  beside  me.  His  spirit  seemed  to  soar  and  pierce 
the  dim  ether,  yet  never  for  an  instant  ceased  to  be  fet- 
tered with  the  material  part  of  life,  or  lose  its  hold  upon 
the  actual.  Often,  often  have  I  seen  that  gleam,  spectral 
as  starlight,  yet  never  once  did  I  suspect  or  know  until 
long  after  what  the  glance  portended.  How  blind  is  the 
keenest  insight  at  war  with  fate ! 

It  soon  became  known  in  the  circle  at  Wayburn  that 
Warren  Hajme  would  marry  the  beautiful  Southern  girl, 
guest  of  the  Kingswells.     Stanley  verj  naturally  shrank 


THE  MONTANAS.  97 

from  what  seemed  to  her  indelicate  publicity  of  that  which 
in  her  estimation  should  be  held  sacredly ;  but  Warren 
manifested  a  strange  desire  to  parade  his  triumph.  He 
was  one  of  those  men  who  disvalue  any  gift  the  world 
does  not  share  and  set  high  estimates  upon.  Many  marry 
as  though  they  anticipated  having  numberless  spectators  to 
every  domestic  scene  from  youth  to  age,  so  eager  a  desire 
they  manifest  to  conciliate  society  in  the  choice  of  a  partner 
for  life,  and  court  its  due  appreciation  of  then-  selection. 

Mr.  Kings  well  said  little  on  the  subject ;  he  was  too 
thorough  a  gentleman  to  obtrude  the  expression  of  an 
opinion  which  had  never  been  sought;  I  knew  he  had 
learned  to  love  Stanley  very  dearly,  and  would  have  been 
pleased  if  she  and  his  favorite,  Clyde,  had  chosen  each 
other.  I  knew  he  talked  it  over  with  his  good  wife  when 
they  were  alone  together ;  for  in  each  sober  face  I  saw  the 
verdict  of  their  keener  judgment  than  we  possessed,  which 
foresaw  a  time  when  the  silver  tides  of  this  affection  would 
sink  amid  the  thirsty  sands  of  after  life. 

'Twas  thus  the  bright-browed  summer  passed,  and  in 
her  stead  came  golden  autumn  showering  treasures  of 
crimson  and  amber;  harvests  fresh  from  the  sickle  were 
bound  and  stored ;  "  the  grapes  were  purpling  in  the 
grange,"  yet  we  hngered  at  Ridgely — lingered  because  we 
had  no  courage  to  break  the  airy  tissues  of  our  happiness 
and  seek  to  weave  them  about  other  scenes,  lest  in  the 
process  they  should  vanish,  leaving  us  in  darkness.  At 
length  a  letter  arrived  which  turned  the  balance  in  favor 
of  Claremont.  Aunt  Edith  was  ill;  Uncle  Montana,  em- 
barrassed by  an  unlucky  speculation,  required  the  services 
of  his  sons  to  set  him  right.  I  overheard  Mr.  Kingswell 
and  Clyde  talking  softly  about  the  matter,  and  judging 
from  fragments  of  the  conversation  which  reached  me,  I 


98  THE  MOKTANAS. 

was  more  than  ever  convinced  that  the  suspicion  I  had 
hitherto  entertained  concerning  Uncle  Clifford's  original 
investment  was  correct.  I  also  knew  that  both  Raymond 
and  Stanley  were  ignorant  of  this  fact !  therefore  to  no 
human  ear  did  I  breathe  the  knowledge  which  had  unavoid- 
ably come  to  me.  Some  things  were  clearer  now  that 
before  had  appeared  so  dread  a  mystery.  The  scales  were 
dropping  from  my  eyes  !  I  thought  I  knew  now  why 
they  had  been  so  anxious  to  forestall  matters  in  that  regard 
and  negotiate  a  marriage  between  Stanley  and  Clyde  ;  just 
then  I  was  feeling  sufficiently  malicious  to  rejoice  in  secret 
that  their  plan  of  bargain  and  sale  was  prospectively 
thwarted  by  her  anticipated  union  with  Warren  Hayne. 
Though  for  Uncle  Montana,  in  any  event,  I  foresaw  trouble 
in  the  future.  Austere,  uncompromising  man  that  he  was, 
loving  money  as  his  God,  it  was  very  natural  he  should 
wish  to  wed  his  only  daughter  with  great  wealth.  As  for 
Warren,  beyond  a  decent  competence  he  had  only  his 
fine  business  capacity  and  indomitable  energy,  which  were 
in  themselves  the  surest  avenues  to  future  wealth  and 
honor. 

At  length  we  came  back  to  Clarcmont.  Aunt  Edith  sat 
up,  wearing  her  sweetest  smile  with  which  to  greet  us,  but 
there  was  so  marked  a  contrast  between  the  almost  trans- 
parent whiteness  of  her  complexion  and  the  hectic  glow  on 
either  cheek,  as  she  rested  them  alternately  against  the 
purple  velvet  lining  of  her  luxurious  chair,  we  were  startled  ! 
Then  the  hand  she  held  out  to  us  was  so  thin  and  wasted, 
the  look  of  it  pierced  our  hearts  with  remorse.  Why  had 
we  left  her  to  eke  out  the  frail  remnant  of  her  vitality  in 
utter  loneliness,  while  we  pursued  our  pleasures  ?  How 
cruelly  selfish  we  had  been!  I  knelt  beside  her;  pressed 
the  poor  wan  fingers  to  my  lips,  choking  down  the  anguish 


THE  MONTANAS.  99 

that  would  not  drop  its  weight  in  tears ;  while  Stanley,  her 
own  child,  her  best  beloved,  unable  to  look  upon  the 
change  which  had  struck  us  all  so  painfully,  went  to  her 
own  gorgeous  apartments,  tapestried  richly  and  draped  in 
blue  •  and  gold,  tasselled  and  min'ored  in  a  style  which 
would  have  rivalled  the  boudoir  of  an  Oriental  princess. 
'Twas  thus  I  found  her,  an  hour  later,  her  face  buried  in  a 
rich  couch  in  her  chamber.  Warren  Hayne's  beloved ! 
yes,  and  Clyde's  too !  they  both  loved  her.  I  loved  her, 
and  would  soothe  lier  pain ;  and  I  did,  breathing  in  gentle 
words  a  hope  which  I  felt  to  be  hopeless ;  meanwhile  pic- 
turing a  future  which  would  be  hers  even  when  this  bright 
sun  of  her  youth  was  gone  down  in  the  darkness,  and  only 
the  star  of  his  love  shining. 

I  do  not  think  Raymond  really  understood  or  duly  ap- 
preciated the  change  in  his  worshipped  mother.  Yery 
soon  he  sat  down  to  tell  her  of  Mary,  of  his  engagement 
and  his  happiness,  she  smiling  calmly — a  sympathetic  re- 
cognition of  his  joy ;  but  when  he  went  on  to  speak  of 
Stanley  and  her  love  for  Warren  Hayne,  she  questioned 
until  he  told  her  all !  Then  a  shadow  fell  upon  her  face — a 
shadow  as  of  disappointed  hope — while  her  eyes  sought 
Clyde,  whose  misery  was  so  proudly  still ;  only  she  and  I 
guessed  how  he  suffered  and  how  heavily  the  blow  would 
fall  on  him. 

How  wondrously  does  the  social  atmosphere  affect  and 
influence  the  physical !  Even  that  insidious  foe,  consump- 
tion, will  relax  his  hold  oftentimes  for  a  little  season,  and 
allow  his  \dctims  to  linger  securely  in  some  sunny  place  by 
the  wayside,  even  when  most  intent  upon  hunying  them  to 
the  dark  shades  beyond.  It  was  thus  with  Aunt  Edith, 
who  was  so  happy  in  having  us  home  again,  she  rallied  and 
gained  strength  suflScient  to   take  her  place  at  the  table 


100  THE  MONTANAS. 

which,  being  physically  unable  to  preside,  she  had  been 
compelled  to  abandon  weeks  before. 

Aunt  Dinah  too  was  present,  who  declared  it  was  "  as 
solemn  as  a  meetin'  to  have  nobody  to  come  to  de  table 
'cept  massa,  who  et  nothin'  hisself — hardly  enough  to  keep 
a  fish  alive ;  all  de  cookin'  was  done  for  nothin'  while  we 
was  gone.  As  for  Hawsey,  she  had  pined  after  Miss  Stan- 
ley tell  she  was  no  more  'an  a  shadder !  Pity  young  miss 
couldn't  a  tuck  the  child  along  wid  her ;  but  I  'spose  it  was 
dangerous,  dem  folks  up  Norf  is  so  mighty  medelsum  'bout 
we  niorg-ers." 

Aunt  Dinah's  feelings  were  almost  abundantly  poured 
forth  in  behalf  of  any  one  who  ate  little ;  this,  in  her  esti- 
mate, was  a  state  approximating  the  very  climax  of  misery. 
Even  in  ordinary  conversations,  not  in  the  slightest  degree 
pathetic,  it  was  Aunt  Dinah's  habit  to  shed  tears.  They 
were  as  natural  to  the  old  lady  as  sun  and  air  to  plants,  or 
as  Raymond  mischievously  remai-ked,  as  "  water  to  a  duck." 
They  were  the  invariable  tribute  of  her  susceptible  heart  on 
occasions  either  grave  or  gay.  Now,  however,  the  old 
lady  was  entirely  excusable  for  her  indulgence  of  the  -emo- 
tion she  felt  at  seeing  her  mistress  well  enough  to  resume 
her  old  place  in  the  reunited  family,  and  Hawsey,  the  apple 
of  her  tearful  eye,  reinstalled  at  her  post  of  honor  again. 
Said  Hawsey  was  a  faithful  little  creature,  notwithstanding 
her  propensity  to  regard  the  boys  slily  from  out  the  corners 
of  her  bright  eyes,  and  really  attached  so  much  importance 
to  the  performance  of  her  duty  as  dressing-maid,  regarding 
her  service  as  so  indispensable  an  adjunct  to  Stanley's  com- 
fort, it  was  amusing  to  .witness  her  transports  on  our  return. 
I  verily  believe  she  imagined  Stanley's  hair  had  not  ap- 
peared well  once  during  her  long  absence  from  home;  good, 
kind,  and  indulgent  as  her  young  mistress  was,  she  really 


THE  MONTAJSTAS^^jLK  /-. .      l  Q 1 


permitted  her  to  enjoy  this  belief,  wKrcli'she  did 'even  with  ^h 
the  evidence  of  well  kept  glossy  ringlets  to  the  contrary. 

Hawsey's  idea  of  a  land  where  people  waited  on  themselves  / 

was  anything  but  flattering  to  the  m-oprietors  of  free  soil.  '' 


CHAPTER  yil. 

"Be  wise  to-day,  'tis  madness  to  defer  ; 
Next  day— the  fatal  precedent  will  plead  ; 
Thus  on,  'till  wisdom  is  pushed  out  of  life," 

YoiTNG's  Night  Thottghts. 

Claremont  !    our  fairy  land !     How  very  lovely  it  was 

with  long,  cool  verandas,  shaded,  by  stately  magnolias   of 
dark  shining  foliage,  and  green  slopes  swelling  southward 
to  the  gulf  and  westward  to  the  sunset.     AVliether  in  the 
light  of  morning  or  the  garish  brightnoss  of  noontime,  the 
gradual  waning  of  golden  day  or  soft  shadows  of  evening, 
descending  gently  as  the  footfall  of  angels,  it  was  beautiful,' 
and  its  atmosphere  was  one  of  perpetual  spring.      Autumn 
had  flitted  caressingly  over  its  shady  groves  and  flowery 
walks,  just  touching  with  more  gorgeous  hue  verdure  and 
foliage,  when  Cousin  Warren   came  to  Aasit  us.     He  ap- 
peared in  a  transport  of  rapture ;  actually  put  aside  his 
stately  politeness— assuming  the  elegant  necfUffe  of  South- 
em  manners— took   his   place   in    our   home    circle  natu- 
rally, as  though  he  had  been  bred  and  born  to  the  position 
he  then  occupied,  and  was  self-constituted  sole  proprietor  of 
his  mystic  surroundings.     Often  he  would  tell  us  over  and 
over  how  very  happy  he  was.     One  of  his  pet  indulgences, 
I  remember,   was  to  pluck  the  fairest  flowers,  toy  with 
them,  then  pull  them  to  pieces,  just  for  the  pleasure  of  see- 
ing them  borne  afar  off  on  the  misty  wings  of  breezes  which 


1 0  2  THE  MONTANA  S. 

came  up  softly  from  the  gulf;  again,  lie  would  strew  them 
in  the  path  before  him  as  he  walked,  and  trample  upon  the 
dissevered  petals  with  a  careless  indifference  that  wounded 
Stanley.  One  day  she  spoke  to  him  of  the  strange  habit. 
I  sat  upon  the  upper  veranda  and  could  not  avoid  hearing 
their  conversation.  He  had  woven  a  wreath  of  orange  blos- 
soms and  set  it  afloat  upon  the  surface  of  water  inclosed  by 
a  marble  basin  which  held  the  fountain's  falling  spray, 
talking  languidly  as  he  watched  golden  minnows  leap  to 
catch  them  or  trace  their  shadows  underneath.  She  said, 
softly,  it  seemed  an  answer  to  her  thought : 

"  You  may  decide  that  I  am  fanciful,  but  I  never  see  a 
leaf  cr  flower  detached  from  the  parent  stem  without  a 
sensation  akin  to  the  keenest  pain." 

He  responded  in  his  usual  blase  manner : 

"  They  are  among  the  bright  creations  made  to  be  en- 
joyed while  they  last ;  "  his  look  said :  Then  put  aside  to 
make  room  for  others. 

"  Gather  the  rose-buds  while  you  may, 
Old  time  is  stiU  a-flying  ; 
And  the  same  flower  which  blooms  to-day, 
To-morrow  shall  be  dying." 

"  Herrick  is  wise  ;  he  has  propagated  a  very  comforting 
sort  of  logic,  which  I  never  fail  to  adopt." 

"  Yet,"  said  Stanley,  "  it  is  a  very  sad  philosophy  which 
teaches  men  to  speak  and  act  thus ;  they  would  be  inex- 
cusable for  the  promulgation  of  such  sentiments  were  not 
word  less  culpable  than  deed ;  men  of  the  world  aff'ect  a 
species  of  bravado  in  adopting  them.  I  should  scarcely 
expect  you  could  be  brought  to  endorse  a  theory  or  prac- 
tice so  chilling  in  its  efi'ects.  Many  poets,  whom  fortunate 
genius  has  lifted  above  its  severest  casualties,  seem  to  take 


THE  MONTANAS.  103 

an  insane  pride  in  thus  braving  life  and  scattering  its  trea- 
sure by  the  way.  I  can  nev6r  recall  some  of  Moore's  de- 
fiant lines  without  a  shudder.  Little  by  little  we  come  to 
extend  this  selfishness  to  animate  as  well  as  inanimate  ob- 
jects, which  is  apt  to  lead  to  practices  very  pernicious  ! 
And  were  such  indulgences  mianimously  adopted,  the 
result  would  be  to  sweep  all  generosity  from  the  universe." 

"  The  attribute  of  selfishness  is  more  general  now  than 
you  seem  to  imagine.  I  have  already  learned  to  endorse 
the  theory — as  every  one  must  sooner  or  later  in  his  Inter- 
course with  mankind ;  though  truly  it  is  a  deplorable  era 
in  the  history  of  an  individual — the  first  faint  realization  of 
the  fact  that  self-interest  is  the  motive-power  which  impels 
the  machinery  of  society. 

"  Beyond  one  glorious  truth,  I  hold  all  the  world  to  be 
false  as  it  is  fair ;  I  am  sure  if  I  should  learn  to  doubt  this 
fact  I  should  not  want  to  live  !  The  blight  would  cover  all 
my  life,  and  the  charred  remains  of  the  structure  in  which 
I  have  enshrined  its  hopes  would  blacken  all  the  pathway 
to  that  golden  realm  of  light  shining  yonder — a  goal  in 
the  blue  distances  of  coming  time — and  shroud  in  dark- 
ness the  very  canopy  of  heaven.  This  is  the  one  gTeat 
truth  whose  existence  I  feel  within  the  area  of  my  heart's 
pulsations.  There  is  only  one — there  can  be  but  one  love 
such  as  you  have  inspired — and  since  your  little  feet  have 
walked  in  the  hollow  wastes  of  my  life,  I  have  known  no 
other  joy — 

" '  With  thee  conversing  I  forget  all  time, 
All  seasons  and  their  change  do  please  alike. 
I  love  thee  and  I  feel 
That  in  the  fountain  of  my  heart  a  seal 
Is  set  to  keep  its  waters  pure  and  bright 
For  thee.' " 


104  THE  MONTANA  S. 

Ah !  when  other  seasons,  with  their  changes  dread,  came 
on,  did  one  inky  drop  of  the  sad  blight  succeeding  stain 
the  crystal  waters  of  the  one  pure  fountain  in  his  heart — 
whose  golden  seal  was  crushed  and  broken  in  obedience  to 
a  mandate  of  the  world — the  same  world  of  which  he  talked 
so  contemptuously,  yet  whose  voice  w^as  stronger  than  the 
voice  within  ?  Yes,  out  into  this  same  world  he  passed, 
leaving  the  bright  golden  love-life  afar  back  in  its  glory ! 
The  pearly  gates  closed  after  him  with  a  crash  that  shook 
the  solid  earth ;  on  he  went  through  desert  ways,  joyless 
amid  the  seasons,  gliding  swift  from  flower  to  snow ;  that 
same  world  lying  henceforth  all  between  his  heart  and 
hers. 

"  Oh  love !  what  is  there  in  this  world  of  ours, 
That  makes  it  fatal  to  be  loved  ?     Ah !  why, 
With  cypress  branches  hast  thou  wreathed  thy  bowers, 
And  made  thy  best  interpreter  a  sigh  ?  " 

When  in  Warren's  far  away  home  autumn  was  wearing 
the  faded  garlands  of  departed  summer,  the  winter  sky  of 
a  fearful  strife  between  brother  and  brother,  fi'iend  and 
friend,  was  darkening  underneath  the  heavens.  The  po- 
litical contest  of  1860  terminated  in'  the  election  of  Mr. 
Lincoln  to  the  Presidency,  which  event  was  succeeded  by 
the  withdrawal  of  all  Southern  members  from  the  repre- 
sentative hall  of  the  nation,  which  course  resulted  in  the 
secession  of  South  Carolina,  which  was  quickly  followed 
by  other  States.  Our  hero  began  to  grow  restless,  and 
longed  for  the  busy  world  again.  A  system  of  pleasant 
dalliance  by  the  wayside  may  bring  feverish  ecstasy  to  a 
man  of  active  habit,  but  it  can  never  wholly  satisfy  or  in- 
sure to  mind  and  heart  lasting  peace.  Life  is  a  steady 
current,  ever  rushing  on,  on ;  we  must  sail  or  drift  with  its 
swift  flow,  and  work  our  passage  that  we  may  come  into 


TEE  MOXTANAS.  105 

tlie  channel  wliicli  joins  the  ocean  tides,  which  will  bear  us 
to  golden  portals  of  the  bright  beyond. 

Warren  proposed  that  with  the  consent  of  all  parties 
concerned,  he  and  Stanley  should  be  married  at  once  and 
return  to  the  North  together ;  she  hesitated,  from  disin- 
clination to  leave  her  mother  in  her  present  feeble  health. 
Was  it  a  dim  foreboding  in  my  heart  that,  if  deferred,  the 
result  would  be  misery  for  both,  that  caused  me  to  speak 
as  I  did? 

"  You  are  wrong,  Stanley,  you  should  go  with  Warren  ; 
he  wants  you.  Auut  Edith  shall  be  well  cared  for ;  be- 
sides, you  know  not  what  might  come  between  you  to 
prevent  the  ultimate  consummation  of  your  hopes.  Should 
the  national  Union,  as  we  have  reason  to  fear,  become  dis- 
rupted, Warren  may  then  be  considered  an  enemy  to  your 
land !  Would  you  wish  to  marry  him  then  ?  Again,  his 
former  enchantress  may  yet  win  his  love  from  vou :  most 
men  are  stigmatized  as  fickle,  you  are  well  aware;  he 
might  not  prove  an  isolated  exception."  An  expression  of 
deep  pain  passed  over  the  features  of  my  friend,  though 
she  answered  not  a  little  proudly  : 

"  I  do  not  anticipate  the  first  event  to  which  you  refer 
as  though  the  occurrence  were  almost  certain.  Our  na- 
tional league  is  too  strongly  augmented  by  the  sacrifice  of 
years  to  be  broken  by  the  guilty  efforts  of  a  few  shameless 
partisans.  As  regards  Miss  Strawbridge,  I  do  not  fear 
her !  However,  if  the  result  which  you  intimate  be  proba- 
ble or  possible,  it  were  better  I  should  know  it  at  once  ;  I 
could  not  so  thoroughly  appreciate  his  homage  were  it  less 
exclusive." 

Since  I  have  growTi  older,  in  justice  to  mankind  I  do 
not  hesitate  to  express  a  belief  that  so  called  fickleness  is 
only  refined  exclusiveness.     Man  cannot  lay  his  heart  at 

.    5* 


106  THE  MONTANAS. 

every  strine  to  which  he  bows  a  willing  tnee  in  anmse- 
ment  or  courtesy.  Warren  was  not  really  unfaithful  to 
Stanley  in  the  test  which  followed ;  his  waywardness  was 
wholly  the  result  of  events  so  complicated — so  directly 
bearing  upon  his  destiny  and  hers — he  found  it  impossible 
to  break  the  chain  of  irascible  circumstances. 

When  Mr.  Montana  became  aware  of  the  pending  issue 
invoh-ing  his  daughter's  preference  for  Mr.  Hayne,  he  urged 
no  grave  expostulations,  only  evinced  a  pettish  displeasure; 
which  was  manifest  in  his  expressed  wish  to  have  the  mar- 
riage deferred:  "Wait,"  he  said;  "Stanley  was  scarce  more 
than  a  child  ! "  He  could  make  no  other  objection,  know- 
ing how  his  daughter's  heart  was  in  the  projected  union  ; 
he  repeated  in  the  interval  of  deep  hard  breaths :  "  Wait." 

Again,  when  Warren  in  person  knelt  with  Stanley  beside 
the  pale-faced  mother,  asking  the  precious  boon  of  her  child's 
love,  she  could  only  clasp  her  trembling  hands  over  that  gold- 
en head  with  its  falling  curls ;  while  her  white  lips,  too,  said 
"Wait."  Wliy  should  those  tears  have  fallen  then  and 
there,  upon  the  flower-garden  of  her  daughter's  youth  and 
hope  ?  Only  I  knew  how  dear  to  each  parental  heart  was 
the  project  of  uniting  her  and  Clyde,  who  was  the  sole  in- 
heritor of  Claremont  and  Brightland.  His  mother  held 
nothing,  now  that  he  was  of  an  age  to  claim  them  ;  not  even 
the  slaves,  except  by  suffrage :  hence  they  looked  forwai'd 
to  this  consummation  of  their  scheme  as  to  a  final  adjustment 
of  pecuniary  affairs,  of  late  so  complicated  and  uncertain. 
At  this  particular  jimcture,  if  compelled  to  repay  large  sums 
of  money  frequently  borrowed  from  Clyde's  ready  capital,  the 
result  would  be  utter  ruin.  It  was  because  he  felt  he  was 
not  strong  enough  to  breast  the  waves  just  then,  that  he  said 
to  Warren  and  Stanley  :  "  Wait !  "  and  the  pale-faced  mother 
repeated  after  him  the  one  touching,  comprehensive  mono- 


TEE  MONTANAS.  107 

syllable.  I  tLough.t  I  detected  in  the  dark,  splendid  eyes 
of  Clyde  a  gleam  of  tender  appeal  that,  too,  suggested — 
"  "Wait !  "  And  my  suffering,  feverish  heart  responded  with 
sad  echo  to  the  joint  burden  of  that  of  the  household — 
"  Wait ! "  and  we  waited,  but  not  long. 

There  was  one  person  who  advocated  Warren's  claims 
with  great  vehemence.  Ray  was  the  exception  to  the  gene- 
ral expression  of  deference.  He  often  repeated  his  asser- 
tion of  a  former  occasion ;  that  Warren  was  the  most 
fitting  match  in  all  New  York.  Then  perhaps  he  knew 
nothing  of  the  league  in  favor  of  Clyde ;  or  if  he  did,  con- 
sidered that  young  geiftleman  abundantly  able  to  assert  and 
advocate  his  own  claims.  But  of  some  other  things  he  was 
well  aware,  which  we  in  our  blindness  did  not  know  until 
long  afterwards. 

Notwithstanding  all  that  Raymond  said  in  favor  of  a 
speedy  union,  it  was  decided  that  the  marriage  ceremony 
should  not  be  performed  until  the  coming  spring. 

One  morning,  a  few  days  later,  it  was  arranged  that  I 
should  drive  down  to  the  city  with  Clyde  to  do  some  shop- 
ping. I  shall  never  forget  the  picture  which  met  my  eyes 
on  going  to  Aunt  Edith's  room  to  receive  special  injunc- 
tions concerning  her  proposed  purchases ;  she  sat  in  a  large 
chair  near  an  open  window,  while  Hawsey  combed  her  soft 
brown  hair;  Stanley  rested  from  her  embroidery  on  an 
ottoman  beside  her ;  and  a  few  feet  distant.  Miss  Ellis,  with 
her  knitting- work.  By  the  way,  I  have  not  yet  had  occa- 
sion to  describe  this  very  interesting  personao-e  ;  whose 
most  prominent  characteristic  was  the  aforesaid  knitting- 
work,  which  was  ever  present  with  her.  She  was  possessed 
of  many  family  details,  which  she  had  repeated  until  we 
knew  them  word  for  word,  though  the  lady  in  our  house- 
hold was  a  "  sarcophagus  "  of  silence.     She  rarely  spoke 


108  THE  MONTANAS. 

unless  some  one  addressed  her ;  then,  if  possible,  answered 
the  question  or  remark  with  as  few  words  as  possible.  Again 
Miss  Ellis,  or  Miss  J'hoebe  as  we  usually  called  her,  was  well 
versed  in  the  complicated  record  which  held  dates  of  every 
marriage  and  death  which  had  occurred  in  almost  every 
family  of  note  in  the  section,  for  years  and  years  agone. 

How  she  came  in  possession  of  so  varied  and  *'aluable  a 
stock  of  information,  was  a  fact  utterly  incomprehensible ; 
for  she  never  asked  a  question,  unless,  as  we  surmised,  it 
was  by  some  adroit  process  of  storing  what  she  learned 
incidentally;  and  by  the  exercise  of  the  rare  faculty  she 
had  of  putting  this  and  that  together  in  the  prolific  soil  of 
her  own  memory,  which  yielded  in  case  of  any  emergency 
an  abundant  harvest  of  uncontrovertible  testimony. 

This  little  lady,  with  her  quiet  ways,  had  been  the  lineal 
heritao-e  of  Claremont  lonor  before  the  Montanas  had  lived 
there.  During  the  lifetime  of  the  first  Mrs.  Ingram, 
Clyde's  mother,  she  had  been  employed  to  superintend 
the  arrangement  of  the  household.  Upon  the  occasion  of 
the  instalment  of  Mrs.  Ingram  second,  she  had  been  per- 
mitted still  to  hold  her  place.  Then  when  the  father  and 
master  had  died,  and  Mrs.  Montana  assumed  the  direction 
of  the  establishment,  she  was  still  held  one  of  the  humble 
retainers.  Through  all  these  vicissitudes  she  had  been  so 
constant  and  patient  in  her  duty- doing,  step  by  step  she 
had  mounted,  until  now  she  stood  upon  the  topmost  round 
of  the  ladder,  from  which  high  eminence  of  hardly-won 
confidence  it  would  have  been  difiicult  to  precipitate  her, 
for  she  prided  herself  much  upon  this  distinction.  It  was 
not  a  habit  we  children  had  acquired  in  our  bringing  up  to 
like  Miss  Phoebe  much !  She  so  persistingly  kept  upon 
the  track  of  our  waywardness,  and  brought  to  light  all  our 
little  mischievous  schemings ;  she  was  sure  to  unravel  our 
4 


TEE  MOKTANAS.  109 

mysterious  confidences  during  vacations  spent  at  home,  and 
report  them  in  her  quiet  way,  so  that  we  really  stood  much 
in  awe  of  her  in  those  days.  Now,  however,  the  feeling 
had  passed  away,  and  we  had  grown  to  appreciate  and 
esteem  her.  It  was  easy  to  perceive  she  was  yet  a  source 
of  annoyance  to  Hawsey,  upon  whom  she  kept  a  sharp  eye, 
though  by  day  she  never  ceased  her  endless  knitting.  I 
watched  her  now  curiously  as  she  sat  weaving  into  the  web 
of  counterpane  upon  which  she  worked,  together  with  the 
notes  of  birds  singing  from  their  stately  perches  amid  the 
foliage  of  magnolias ;  •  these  mingled  with  the  uncouth 
croakings  of  Stanley's  paroquet !  All  these  were  bound  in 
long  white  meshes  that  fell  from  her  wax-like  fingers  slowly 
as  a  moving  shroud.  Now  and  then  was  a  square  with 
which  were  interwoven  the  golden  threads  of  hope — like 
those  running  through  Stanley's  bright  years.  Stanley  had 
ever  been  a  favorite  ^dth  Miss  Phoebe  !  Again,  with  the 
dream  of  Clyde's  young  manhood,  some  darker  threads 
streaked  the  fabric — running  strongly  and  steadily  as  the 
current  of  life  that  was  ebbing  before  our  eyes — though  we 
scarcely  realized  it  now.  How  blind  we  were  to  the  sad, 
solemn  truth  !  All  save  the  obsen-ing,  kind-hearted,  soft- 
voiced  woman,  who  seemed  so  little  likely  to  observe  the 
fact,  and  yet  who  knew  it  first  of  all.  There  was  no  trace  of 
the  knowledge  in  her  face ;  only  now  as  I  recall  the  many 
incidents  of  that  time,  I  remember  too  how  her  manner 
grew  more  subdued,  and  then  she  manifested  as  unaccount- 
able indifiierence  to  many  of  Hawsey's  shortcomings  !  and 
was  seen  much  less  frequently  at  her  post  of  observation  on 
the  lower  veranda,  where  her  glittering  needles  were  brought 
to  bear  upon  the  servants  in  their  daily  work.  Aunt  Dinah 
held  undisputed  sway  in  her  realm ;  and  every  morning  after 
having  washed  the  china,  trimmed  the  lamps,  brightened 


110  THE  MONTANAS. 

the  silver  with  a  piece  of  chamois  leather,  and  dispatching 
a  little  dusky  emissary  to  Miss  Phoebe  with  the  keys  of  the 
sideboard,  descended  thereafter  to  her  own  domain — often- 
times with  full  an  added  inch  of  turban  on  her  woolly  head. 
Her  importance  expanded  each  day  ?  And  in  proportion 
as  her  greatness  increased,  her  severity  to  those  in  regard  to 
whom  her  jurisdiction  was  faithfully  exercised,  grew  more 
insufferable.  Aunt  Dinah's  philanthropy  had  also  dilated 
astonishingly ;  her  tears,  usually  so  wont  to  flow,  now  gushed 
forth  without  the  slightest  provocation.  In  short  she  cuffed 
the  little  kinky  heads  below  stairs,  and  wept  penitently  for 
the  offence  whenever  she  came  into  our  higher  realm  of 
expiation. 

Of  many  things  that  were  amusing  in  our  household,  and 
some  that  were  very  sad,  I  stood  thinking  while  tracing  that 
picture  of  the  morning  preceding  the  last  evening  which  we 
all  spent  together,  when  I  heard  Stanley's  voice  calling  me 
to  come  in  from  the  veranda  where  I  had  stood  musing  long 
and  abstractedly. 

"I  wish,  Jennie,  you  would  call  to  see  Retta  Austin 
and  procure  for  me  if  possible  the  pattern  of  that  worsted- 
work  ;  I  cannot  go  on  with  this  until  I  familiarize  myself 
with  the  original  design ;  you  will  confer  a  favor  by  so 
doing,  for  which  I  will  be  very  much  obliged.""  She 
hummed  a  little  snatch  of  melody  from  Trovatore,  which 
Paroquet  repeated  in  a  hoarser  voice.  I  promised  to  exe- 
cute her  commission,  and  hearing  Clyde  descend  from  his 
dressing-room,  I  passed  out  on-  the  front  veranda  to  let 
him  see  that  I  was  in  readiness.  I  soon  received  his  signal 
as  the  horses  came  sweeping  round  the  curve,  with  proud 
manes  flashing  and  coats  like  autumn  sunshine.  How  very 
gallantly,  almost  tenderly,  he  assisted  me  into  the  buggy 
and  took  his  place  by  my  side.     We  had  long  since  ceased 


THE  MONTANAS.  Ill 

to  address  eacli  otter  save  in  the  presence  of  otters ;  now 
on  this  particular  occasion  silence  was  a  luxury :  the  bright, 
bright  river  of  my  dream  was  gliding  on;  the  golden 
water  seemed  to  touch  my  feet  as  we  went  whirling  along 
its  margin  with  a  speed  that  almost  made  me  hold  my 
breath,  yet  scarcely  kept  pace  with  its  current.  I  was 
unable  to  decide  if  my  fancy  was  not  a  reality,  so  strangely 
had  this  habit  of  musing  grown  upon  me.  At  length  I 
broke  the  spell  of  our  silence  by  remarking,  with  enthusiasm : 

"Life  seems  a  dream,  Clyde,  so  blended  with  the  Infi- 
nite that  I  can  scarcely  separate  the  real  from  the  unreal, 
the  life  here  from  that  I  hope  for." 

"  I  once  thought,"  he  said,  a  shadow  coming  into  his 
fine  face,  "  that  life  was  a  dream !  but  the  dream  is  over. 
Now  it  is  a  cheat,  a  delusion,  a  show,  full  of  sound  and 
fury  *  signifying  nothing ! '  an  autumn  of  reality  in  whose 
atmosphere  wither  and  fade  the  bright  things  it  brought 
from  the  depths  of  that  great  mystery  in  which  it  came — 
into  which  it  shall  be  resolved  again.  I  am  shivering 
through  a  long  November,  which  is  fast  darkening  into  an 
eternal  winter.  I  have  sowed — others  will  reap ;  the  har- 
vest is  not  my  own." 

I  saw  the  shadows  darken  on  his  face  where  the  morninor 
light  had  been.  I  wanted  to  ask  why  it  was  so  ;  if  it  was 
because  he  felt  he  could  have  no  life  apart  from  Stanley's 
love  ?  Yet  how  bravely  and  quietly  he  accepted  his  sad 
destiny  !  There  was  no  despairing,  no  faltering  of  his  life 
purpose  in  the  path  where  duty  lay,  no  frittering  away  of 
energy  and  integrity,  because  of  that  departed  May  of  life 
and  love  whose  mortal  sacrifices  are  as  so  many  taber- 
nacles reared  to  the  Infinite.  The  interstices  of  passion 
lie  above  its  downward  paths :  these  should  be  avoided  by 
the  far-reaching  vision  of  a  love  that  may  soar  beyond ! 


112  THE  MONTANAS. 

enduring  as  the  immortal  power  whose  essence  it  is — re- 
generated, purified. 

Yes,  with  the  inspiration  of  his  presence  round  about 
me,  in  behalf  of  that  other  love,  that  love  of  his  for  her,  I 
could  have  said  all  this  and  more,  had  not  Lane  Austin 
come  alongside  our  vehicle  returning  from  his  morning 
drive. 

"  I  was  cominor  out  to  Claremont  this  morning,  Miss 
Jennie,"  he  said,  in  his  cheery  voice.  "  I  have  intended 
doing  myself  that  pleasure  ever  since  we  came  back  from 
the  North.  I  am  actually  dying  to  hear  the  sound  of  your 
voice ;  I  have  heard  no  music  worth  listening  to  since  we 
left  Nahant ;  you  were  kind  enough  to  sing  for  me  there 
on  one  or  two  occasions,  I  remember." 

"  And  we  will  either  of  us  sing  for  you  again  should  you 
come  to  Claremont  for  that  purpose ;  moreover,  we  will 
welcome  you  gladly."  He  tipped  his  hat  gracefully  and 
passed  on  as  we  drew  up  in  front  of  our  stopping-place.  I 
requested  Clyde  to  come  back  for  me.  I  looked  upon  his 
fine  face  for  the  shadow  when  he  handed  me  out  of  the 
buggy ;  it  was  there,  still  deeper  than  ever,  and  with  the 
resolution  to  chase  it  away  if  possible  as  we  returned,  I 
started  on  a  journey  to  perform  what  Aunt  Edith  had 
given  me  to  do.  I  went  first  to  a  dry-goods  establishment 
in  Canal  street.  Upon  inquiring  for  certain  articles  I  was 
instructed  to  walk  to  the  further  end  of  the  store.  Passing 
a  row  of  assiduous' clerks,  I  came  at  last  to  one  who  fur- 
nished me  with  numberless  specimens  of  flosses,  gay- 
colored  worsteds,  and  fancy  articles  of  every  description, 
talking  busily  meantime  of  the  merits  of  the  goods  in  ques- 
tion, while  I  made  my  selection,  caring  little  for  what  he 
said ;  Clyde's  face,  with  its  shadow,  was  at  my  side,  aiid 
the  bright  river  flowing  far  away. 


THE  MONTANAS.  113 

In  my  preoccupation  I  was  just  on  the  point  of  ha\ing 
him  tie  up  the  wrong  package  for  me,  when  my  attention 
was  arrested  by  the  sound  of  a  haughty,  imperious  voice, 
belonging  to  a  lady  who  requested,  or  rather  commanded, 
to  be  shown  very  many  things — goods  of  every  style  and 
quality — as  though  she  had  been  appointed  chief  inspector 
of  new  fabrics,  with  an  air  that  showed  plainly  she  thought 
she  was  conferring  a  great  favor  by  deig-ning  to  examine 
them  at  all,  even  with  no  design  of  purchasing. 

It  chanced  that  Warren  Hayne  passed  that  way.  She 
saw  him,  and  immediately  ordered  one  of  the  clerks  to 
recall  him.  When  he  came  she  seized  his  hand  with  more 
than  her  usual  warmth ;  whereupon  he  expressed  in  courtly 
terms  his  unexpected  pleasure  in  having  met  her.  Cousin 
Warren  was  never  at  a  loss  for  fashionable  badinage  ;  now 
he  told  her  he  had  never  seen  her  looking  more  charmingly, 
even  during  the  palmy  days  at  Nahant.  She  thanked  him 
cordially,  and  proceeded  to  ply  a  score  of  inquiries  which 
sprang  forth  with  the  sharp  vivacity  of  bullets  from  a  seven- 
charged  revolver.  Firstly,  "  if  he  was  quite  well ;"  secondly, 
if  he  came  South  immediately  after  taking  his  face  from 
•their  pleasant  circle  on  the  Ocean  shore;  if  he  purposed 
remaining  long  in  New  Orleans,  and  how  he  had  passed  the 
time  since  his  arrival?  He  answered  that  he  had  not  come 
South  immediately  after  they  parted,  but  had  remained 
long  enough  to  arrange  his  business,  so  that  it  might  not 
suffer  in  his  absence;  that  he  was  quite  well — in  short 
never  better,  and  had  passed  the  time  at  Claremont  so  very 
delightfully,  it  was  a  source  of  deep  sorrow  and  regret  that 
he  should  be  compelled  to  return  North  during  the  winter ; 
but  so  it  was,  he  should  leave  on  the  morrow. 

"  I  thought  we  passed  you,  Lane  and  I,  as  we  were  driv- 
ing a  few  days  since." 


114  THE  MONTANAS. 

"  Eh  ! — I  was  on  the  road  with  Mr.  Ingram ;  went  with 
him  to  his  place  ;  fair  locality — Brightland." 

"I  presume,"  answered  Retta,  with  an  offensive  and 
hauorhty  leer  from  the  corners  of  her  sharp  black  eyes, 
almost  hissing  the  words  through  rows  of  pearly  teeth; 
"  that  is,  I  am  sure  you  must  have  passed  much  of  your 
time  with  Miss  Montana,  She  will  be  married  very  soon. 
Father  remarked  the  other  day — *  Unless  Mr.  Montana's 
dauo-hter  mamed  Mr.  Iuo;ram  he  was  a  ruined  man.  The 
investments  in  the  business,  together  with  Claremont, 
Brightland,  etc.,  are  the  exclusive  property  of  Mr.  Ingram. 
The  estates  came  by  his  father ;  Mr.  M.  has  held  them  in 
trust  for  many  years — now  his  stepson  is  of  age,  and  will 
probably  want  his  capital  for  other  purposes.'  " 

She  said  much  more,  which  I  will  not  here  repeat ;  she 
went  on  talking  in  that  gross,  unlady-like  fashion,  in  a  con- 
spicuous place,  of  our  family  concerns,  as  though  she  had  a 
personal  interest  in  them,  and  the  information  favored  that 
interest;  talked  on  utterly  ignoring  the  fact  of  Warren's 
preference  for  Stanley.  He  said  no  word,  however;  an 
occasional  answer  couched  in  monosyllables  was  all  the 
response  he  vouchsafed  to  other  queries  when  she  had  closed 
her  harangue  on  this  subject. 

"  By  the  way,"  added  Retta,  appearing  to  have  forgotten 
until  then  the  very  purpose  for  which  she  had  called  him 
in ;  "  I  suppose  of  course  you  are  aware  that  Miss  Straw- 
bridge  has  arrived  in  the  city  ?  I  have  not  seen  her  my- 
self; it  was  Lane  who  informed  me  her  father  had  grown 
anxious  concerning  the  ability  of  at  least  one  of  his  South- 
em  patrons  to  meet  the  requisitions  of  creditors  in  this 
severe  season  of  almost  universal  suspension  ;  consequently 
he  came  to  satisfy  himself  they  would  be  sustained  by  effi- 
cient backers  m  the  event  of  failure.     Mr.  S.  and  his  daugh- 


THE  MONTANA  S.  115 

ter  are  at  the  St.  Charles.  I  shall  call  there  this  morning. 
Perhaps,"  she  added,  turning  carelessly  from  the  piles  of 
gossamer  which  an  assiduous  clerk  had  arranged  for  her 
inspection,  "  you  will  call  with  me.  At  all  events  I  hope 
to  have  the  pleasure  of  entertaining  you  this  evening,  the 
last  of  your  stay  in  the  city." 

"  I  should  be  most  happy,"  Warren  answered — though 
it  must  be  confessed  he  did  not  appear  so  just  then — "  were 
I  not  previously  engaged,  to  accept  your  kind  invitation, 
granting  the  exclusive  right  to  monopolize  me  for  the 
evening.     However,  I  may  see  you  this  afternoon." 

He  took  her  little  snow-flake  of  a  hand — it  was  one  of 
Warren's  tricks — into  his  own,  relinquished  it,  and  was 
going,  when  she  said  again,  assuming  an  expression  of  art- 
less simplicity — 

"  Mr.  Hayne,  I  have  purchased  recently  an  elegant  floral 
album,  and  would  like  so  much  to  have  an  acrostic  or  some- 
thing of  the  sort  above  your  autograph.  Really,  it  would  en- 
hance the  value  of  the  trifle  very  much."  Now  who  could 
have  guessed  the  double  purpose  that  lurked  beneath  this  ap- 
parently single  request !  Firstly,  perhaps,  it  was  influenced 
by  her  secret  love  for  Warren  Hayne  ;  secondly,  it  boded  no 
good  either  to  Stanley  or  himself.     He  answered,  smiling : 

"  I  shall  copy  an  extract  for  Miss  Austin  with  great  plea- 
sure, provided  she  makes  the  selection ;  but  I  have  out- 
grown the  habit  of  extemporizing  on  paper  for  the  delecta- 
tion of  my  friends." 

The  truth  was,  Warren  was  in  love  !  and  could  not  so  readily 
di\'ide  his  sentimentality  with  the  world  of  women  as  he  had 
been  wont  to  do ;  they  could  have  gallantry  at  his  hand,  it  was 
their  due,  but  he  was  chary  of  anything  more  than  the  merest 
lip  service. 

Again  she  turned  a  little  uncomfortably  to  the  examina- 


1 1 6  THE  MOm'ANAS. 

tion  of  rejected  laces.  Again  he  endeavored  to  take  liis 
leave,  though  at  the  very  door  of  the  establishment  he  en- 
countered Miss  Strawbridge.  A  mutual  salutation  ensued  ; 
then  a  consultation,  in  which  Miss  Austin  joined  delight- 
edly, leaving  the  assiduous  young  man  to  put  away  his  goods 
without  so  much  as  thanking  him  for  the  effort  to  find  for 
her  what  she  really  did  not  want.  From  my  post  at  the 
further  end  of  the  store  I  beheld  these  proceedings,  the 
finale  of  which  was,  Cousin  Warren  offered  an  arm  to  each 
of  the  ladies,  and  the  trio  passed  together  into  the  street. 

I  was  aroused  fi'om  a  fit  of  musing  by  the  voice  of  Clyde, 
who  inquired  if  I  was  ready  to  go  home.  I  gladly  replied 
in  the  affirmative,  speedily  rectifying  my  mistake  concerning 
the  packages ;  then  we  too  went  forth  into  the  broad,  bright 
noonday,  and  the  city  outspread — a  map  of  busy  life,  its 
fluctuations  and  its  vast  concenis — through  shady  avenues, 
streets  dusty  and  sun-beaten,  towards  the  home-way.  After 
what  I  had  heard  my  ideas  were  so  confused,  that  notwith- 
standing I  traced  the  shadow  still  upon  his  face,  I  had 
neither  mind  nor  heart  to  ask  him  why  it  was  there,  and  no 
spirit  to  make  the  faintest  endeavor  to  chase  it  away.  So  we 
two  rode  on  in  our  accustomed  silence  back  to  Claremont. 

The  same  evening  after  I  had  listened  to  the  conversation 
which  took  place  between  Retta  Austin  and  Cousin  Warren 
in  the  store  in  Canal  street,  Raymond  came  in — our  bright, 
handsome  Ray — tossing  his  brown  curls  and  threading  them 
with  his  fingers,  having  previously  sailed  his  broad-brimmed 
Leghorn  hat  upon  an  imaginary  sea ;  which,  being  the 
most  accommodating  of  hats,  having,  doubtless,  imbibed  the 
spirit  of  its  owner,  came  back  in  a  circle  to  the  sofa  in  the 
upper  hall  upon  which  he  had  ensconced  himself;  uttering 
a  shrill  whistle,  meant  to  illustrate  the  temperature  of  the 
day,  suggesting  furthermore  that   his  gentlemanship  was 


THE  MONTANAS.  117 

very  much  fatigued  and  would  take  it  in  higli  dudgeon  if 
no  one  came  to  fan  him  and  inquire  how  he  did. 

Stanley  and  I  were  sitting  in  front  of  Aunt  Edith's  room 
on  the  veranda,  enjoying  the  soft  breeze  which  came  up 
from  the  lake  with  the  lulling,  indistinct  murmur  of  waves 
breaking  on  a  distant  shore.     Ray's  whistle  was  unheeded 
very  soon  he  called  out,  in  tones  of  gay  reproach : 

"  Girls,  you  are  inexorable  to-day  ;  however,  I  happen  to 
be  possessed  of  a  piece  of  news  which  I  am  sure  will  startle 
you  very  much.  Jennie,  bring  your  fan  ;  come  sit  here,  Stan, 
I  want  to  lay  my  head  in  your  lap  and  have  you  guess  who 
is  in  the  city."  I  kept  silence,  waiting  for  Stanley  to  speak. 
However,  after  several  attempts  and  failures,  Ray  answered 
his  own  question  volubly : 

"To-day,  about  noontime,  I  sauntered  into  the  St. 
Charles,  thinking  to  meet  a  friend  who  is  stopping  there. 
While  in  waiting  I  chanced  to  glance  through  an  open  door 
leading  into  the  ladies'  dining-saloon,  when  I  saw  Hayne 
sitting  at  table  with  an  old  gentleman  whom  we  met  at 
Nahant,  and  two  ladies.  I  was  aware  Hayne's  stopping- 
place  was  the  Veranda.  I  was  surprised  to  find  him  here. 
A  second  inspection  elucidated  the  mystery.  The  ladies 
in  question  were  Retta  Austin  and  Miss  Strawbridge  ! 
Now  what  in  the  name  of  St.  CecUia  do  you  suppose  has 
brought  her  to  this  city  ?  and  what  would  she  accept  from 
Warren  after  his  open  rejection  of  overtures  from  that  quar- 
ter on  a  pre\T.ous  occasion  ?  Ah,  me !  poor  Hayne  !  I 
have  an  undefined  conviction  she  will  yet  carry  ofi"  that  fel- 
low and  marry  him  against  his  will !  "  After  which  chari- 
table speech  our  sage  Raymond  composed  himself  gently  to 
sleep.  I  fanned  him  patiently  until  the  hour  arrived  which 
I  had  appointed  to  see  Miss  Austin,  if  possible,  for  the  pur- 
pose of  executing  Stanley's  conamission. 


118  THE  MONT  AN  AS. 

I  drove  down  with  a  servant  that  afternoon;  Clyde 
came  later,  behind  his  ponies.  I  met  both  Warren  and 
Miss  Strawbridge  at  Mr.  Austin's.  That  haughty  young 
lady  bowed  very  formally  indeed  when  Retta  pronounced 
my  name,  as  though  the  accent  insulted  her  or  was  associ- 
ated in  her  mind  with  something  very  unpleasant. 

She  absolutely  frowned  as  Warren  said  to  me,  when, 
after  ha\dng  obtained  the  samples  for  Stanley,  I  rose  to 
depart :  "  Wait  a  bit ;  I  will  drive  with  you  ;  "  then  glanc- 
ing hastily  at  his  watch,  added :  "  I  forget  I  have  an  engage- 
ment to  meet  Ingram  precisely  at  six ;  I  will  come  out  with 
him."  This  word,  and  the  accuracy  of  his  emphasis  in 
speaking  it,  were  peculiar  to  Warren.  WTien  I  had  taken 
my  seat  in  the  carriage  he  said  again : 

"  This  little  affair  will  not  occupy  me  long ;  please  say 
to  the  ladies  I  will  do  myself  the  honor  to  join  them  early 
this  evening.  Au  revoir."  He  went  his  way  ;  and  again  I 
passed  from  the  heated  city  into  the  shades  of  our  conse- 
crated home. 

He  was  true  to  his  word !  he  came  early.  I  sat  with 
Ray  upon  the  veranda,  when  we  saw  them  coming  out  on  the 
shell-road,  he  and  Clyde  in  a  light  buggy  together.  How 
handsome  they  were  !  How  radiant  they  appeared,  wafting 
graceful  salutations  to  us  as  they  came  round  the  curve, 
caressed  with  slanting  sunbeams.  The  blush  of  red  autumn 
was  upon  the  landscape  and  waves  of  the  lake.  The  roseate 
hue  deepened  as  the  sunlight  paled  in  shadow ;  but  the 
flush  was  in  our  memory  long  after,  whenever  we  recalled 
the  day  upon  which  our  fate  came  to  us  in  the  form  of  Miss 
Strawbridge. 

Clyde  sent  his  cream-colored  ponies  and  buggy  with  his 
groom  back  for  Uncle  Montana  ;  then  joined  us  in  the  west 
parlor,  where  the  glow  of  sunset  was  lingering  still.     That 


THE  MONTANA  S.  119 

was  a  happy  evening.  By  tacit  consent  no  one  spoke  or 
seemed  to  think  of  Miss  Strawbridge.  We  were  very  gay ; 
even  Aunt  Edith  joined  us.  It  was  only  one  of  a  series 
spent  thus  in  the  same  manner,  but  there  was  a  strange 
charm  in  it ;  I  know  not  why,  save  that  it  was  the  last  we 
were  to  have  like  it  on  this  earth.  Aye  !  was  it  the  last 
of  clear  bright  sunsets  and  shadowless  moonbeams  falling 
through  dark  green  foliage  of  fir  and  palmetto  ;  the  last 
circle  of  smiling  faces  at  the  sumptuous  board;  the  last 
musings  and  tender  whisperings  as  evening  waned  ?  Ah  ! 
yes ;  the  last  of  everything  as  it  had  been ;  of  all  things 
saving  the  farewells — one  for  a  long  time,  and  the  other  till 
eternity. 

Before  Cousin  Warren  left  us  that  night  a  chill  autumn 
rain  fell.  It  seemed  to  pervade  all  things  like  a  dense 
gloom,  and  wrap  its  vestments  around  the  sufferer.  Wliich 
one  ?  is  now  the  query  of  my  heart  as  I  write  after  the 
lapse  of  a  few  years  which  seemed  to  have  been  ages. 
We  heard  the  sound  of  falling  rain  upon  the  house. 

It  was  over ;  Warren  was  gone  I  but  the  rain  and  autumn 
leaves  were  falling  still,  with  a  dreary  sound  which  drowned 
the  music  of  the  fountain.  Vapors  thickened  about  the 
Gulf,  slowly  descendmg  and  wrapping  the  harbor  fleet 
like  a  shroud.  I  kept  my  watch  at  the  window  of  my  own 
apartment  for  a  long  time  ;  then  I  went  to  Aunt  Edith's 
room  and  found  Stanley  sobbing  on  her  mother's  breast. 
Alas  !  how  many  tears  she  shed  in  after  time,  when  there 
was  no  bosom  for  her  but  her  Saviour's  and  her  friend's.  My 
own  was  always  faithful. 

When  silence  brooded  in  the  great  house  and  the  world 
without;  when  slumber  descended  upon  bright  eyes,  love- 
lighted  with  hope  and  joy,  and  eyes  weighed  down  and 
weary  with  the  long  out-look ;  when  there  were  tears  in  the 


120  ^^  THE  MONTANA  S. 

eyes  of  the  stars — I  saw  the  orange-wreath  that  Warren's 
hand  had  made,  as  it  lay  blighted  in  the  misty  night,  beat- 
en by  the  fountain's  falling  spray,  cast  hither  and  thither 
by  the  drifting  rain.  A  moan  came  up  from  the  wide  grey 
sea,  as  if  in  its  great  deeps  the  gusts  of  a  hidden  storm  were 
breakinof. 

I  went  and  sat  by  Stanley's  side  while  she  slept — a  smile 
upon  her  fair  young  face.  I  knew  she  was  dreaming  of 
days  that  were  like  golden  ripples  on  a  sea  which  was 
shaken  as  by  a  presaged  convulsion,  whose  moans  were 
like  human  voices — agonized  suflfering  in  the  changeful 
night. 


CHAPTER  YIII. 

*'  For  all  that  in  this  world  is  great  or  gay, 
Doth  as  a  vapor  vanish  and  decay." 

Spenser's  "  Ettens  or  Time.' 

The  flush  was  gone  from  the  red  autumn  ;  leaves  fell  sor- 
rowfully with  sharp  sprinklings  of  snow  that  fell  glistening 
like  frozen  pearls  upon  the  grass ;  scarlet  beiTies  hung  in 
clusters  looking  sweetly  picturesque,  with  their  frame-work 
of  nut-bro*vn  foHage  flaming  amid  palmetto  and  larch.  I 
had  never  seen  a  Southern  winter  look  so  gloomy  and  for- 
bidding ;  the  orange  wreath  lay  withered  where  the  foun- 
tain fell,  and  that  bright  river  which  had  hitherto  kept  pace 
with  my  Ufe,  was  no  longer  a  part  of  my  musings.  I  seemed 
to  have  been  brought  nearer  to  a  dim  space,  shrouding  the 
vast  ocean  with  its  tides,  in  the  two  months  that  had  elapsed 
since  Cousin  Warren  left  us.  The  winter  gaieties  were  full- 
fledged;  old  courtiers  were  wont  to  say  they  had  never 
known   a  season   so  filled   with  attractive  entertainments. 


THE  MONTANA S.  121 

We,  being  novices,  were  compelled  to  participate,  and  were 
courted  and  flattered  with  attention  from  all  quarters  beyond 
our  power  or  desire'to  retaliate. 

Thus  the  days  passed,  and  we  out  into  tlie  unknown. 
Winter  was  drawino;  to  a  close.  No  word  from  Cousin 
Wa'rren  since  he  reached  home.  Once  or  twice  he  had 
written  by  the  way,  and  that  was  all.  What  could  mean 
his  cruel  silence  ?  Alas,  its  consequences  were  plainly 
visible  ;  Stanley  drooped.  I  scarcely  know  how  she  was 
enabled  to  pass  through  the  ordeal  of  her  formal  introduc- 
tion into  society,  yet  she  glided  with  her  habitual  queenly 
grace  through  scenes  bewildering  enough  to  have  quite 
dazzled  one  less  firmly  poised.  I  remembered  the  words 
Warren  had  spoken  on  first  beholding :  "  I  have  never 
seen  one  so  youthful  appear  so  empress-like."  I  have 
beheld  since,  how  that  same  expression  trembled  on  the  lips 
of  many  within  the  circle  of  her  own  home.  What  to  her 
were  words  of  adulation  ?  They  did  but  mock  her,  secretly 
pining  as  she  was  for  the  faintest  sound  that  told  of  him. 

One  sad  day  the  mystery  was  explained  in  a  manner 
which  struck  me  dumb  with  astonishment.  I  chanced  to 
pick  up  a  Northern  newspaper  Clyde  had  let  fall  as  he  came 
from  the  breakfast-room.  Glancing  briefly  at  the  contents, 
I  was  about  to  throw  it  aside  when  my  eye  fell  on  a  marked 
paragraph,  with  Milverton's  initials  below  traced  with  a  pen- 
cil.     Warren  Hayne  and  Miss  Stravjhridge  were  married  ! 

It  was  this  intelligfence  that  so  amazed  and  shocked  me. 
I  could  not  for  some  time  avail  myself  of  a  single  idea  ;  at 
length,  however,  I  found  myself  possessed  of  a  vehicle 
through  which  I  could  transport  my  thought  to  the  star- 
tling truth,  uprisen  in  all  its  vast  proportions,  where  the 
flowers  of  the  old  hope  lay  crushed  and  fallen.  It  all  seemed 
so  strange,  so  new  and  dreadful !     I  made  my  way  to  Stan- 

6 


1 2  2  THE  MONTANA  S. 

ley's  apartment,  entirely  unprepared  for  the  sight  that  met 
me  there.  Wa^  that  white,  fixed  figure,  so  still  and  cold,  with 
glaring  eyes  of  ocean  blue,  our  joyous,  merry -hearted  child — 
our  Stanley? 

I  never  should  have  been  able  to  identify  her  but  for  the 
sunny  hair  falling  in  golden  masses  over  her  rich  dressing- 
robe.  She  rose  to  receive  me  calmly,  very  calmly,  so  much 
so  that  I,  in  my  agitation,  was  brought  to  doubt  that  she 
was  yet  aware  of  the  strange,  incomprehensible  fact.  Still 
no  word  from  her  lips,  only  that  fearful,  fixed  look  in  her 
white  face.  My  heart  seemed  burning  within  me — the  room 
was  reeling.  I  must  speak.  In  as  steady  a  voice  as  I 
could  command,  I  said :  "  Stanley  do  you  know — have 
you  heard ?" 

Ever}^  precaution  failed  me  here  ;  I  burst  into  tears.  I 
would  have  clasped  the  poor  stricken  bird  to  my  heart,  but 
that  look  on  her  face,  so  white  and  stony,  repelled  me.  My 
eyes  were  dry  now  ;  she  was  first  to  speak.  As  she  did  so, 
a  look  of  wildness  came  into  her  beautiful  eyes,  but  no  glow 
to  her  marble  cheeks.  The  red  current  seemed  to  have 
ebbed  from  sight  with  the  tides  of  that  bright  dream  and 
the  shores  of  the  old  time.  How  strange  and  far  back  in 
the  past  it  seemed;  after  all,  it  was  only  one  of  those 
exquisite  shapes  which  float  in  the  dim  air  about  us,  yet 
find  no  likeness  in  stern  truths  of  every  day.  How  many 
bright  tissues  we  weave  about  the  forms  we  love  and  hope 
to  clasp  so  fondly ;  yet  at  last,  how  they  elude  our  eager 
grasp  and  float  beyond  our  reach.  Then  we  go  our  way 
through  the  semblance  of  things,  our  better,  nobler,  higher 
selves  lying  in  the  grave  of  some  vain  endeavor.  I  saw  it 
would  be  thus  with  Stanley ;  all  heart  and  tenderness  seemed 
utterly  gone  ;  all  that  was  fairest,  loveliest,  and  best,  sat 
mourning  the  far-off"  time  by  the  mortal  remains  of  her 


THE  MONTANAS.  12, \ 

bright,    beautiful    dream.     Her    words    came    slowly   aud 
hoarsely : 

"  Yes,  I  know  !  I  have  better  authority  perhaps  than  you 
have;  he  was  kind  enough  to  forewarn  me  in  a  letter 
which  arrived  this  morning.  I  should  have  taken  your  ad- 
vice, Jennie,  which  was,  I  believe,  to  clasp  the  chain  about 
my  captive  when  the  effort  would  have  cost  me  less  and 
the  distance  have  been  more  convenient.  /  envy  you  your 
relative.'''' 

I  was  cut  to  the  heart  by  her  cool  sarcasm ;  so  wounded 
by  this  unnatural  taunt,  I  forgot  at  that  moment  her  suffer- 
ing and  her  wrong — everything.  I  now  think  that  the 
burst  of  passion  to  which  I  gave  vent  was  her  savino-  ordi- 
nance. My  words  relaxed  the  heart-strings  winding  more 
and  more  tightly  around  the  swift  coil  of  fate  for  a  final 
terrible  crash. 

"  Stanley,  I  think  now  you  should  have  married  Warren 
when  he  wished  it ;  you  loved  him  and  he  loved  you ;  it 
was  owing  only  to  caprice  that  you  did  not  go  with  him 
when  he  willed  it.  But  for  this  delay  you  might  both  to- 
day have  been  happier.  You  may  have  been  the  chosen 
instrument  to  save  himself  and  others;  you  rejected  the 
oflBce.  Has  conscience  no  voice  in  the  matter  ?  I  have  no 
word  to  offer  in  extenuation  of  his  conduct ;  but  I  do  say  I 
believe  it  will  be  much  modified  when  we  come  to  know  all 
the  influences  that  impelled  him  to  this  hasty  course." 

"  I  never  wish  to  know  more  than  I  know  now  !  All  the 
gilded  tissues  in  the  world  could  not  disguise  the  horrible 
distorted  fact.  The  very  thought  of  extenuation  is  abhor- 
rent to  me.  Loved  him  ?  Ah  !  yes,  as  T,  poor  silly  child,^ 
loved  him  he  will  never  again  be  loved.  That  love  was  the 
glory  of  my  life  !  It  lighted  the  earth  by  day  and  the  hea- 
vens by  night.      I   came   to   womanhood  with  no   other 


124  THE  MONTANA S. 

thought  or  hope  than  those  which  circled  about  and  cen- 
tred in  him,  ray  ideal  of  all  that  was  high,  generous,  and 
noble.  How  it  is  fallen  and  lying  in  the  dust  at  my  feet !  " 
She  sat  for  some  time  so  still-looking  into  the  dark  space 
that  had  opened  into  her  young  life  so  soulless  and  cold,  I 
was  really  alarmed.    She  added,  with  a  bitter  mocking  smile : 

"  He  said  he  loved  me,  that  he  lived  but  for  my  smile  ; 
he  called  me  tender  names,  but  now — oh !  I  believe  I  am 
mad !  for  Warren  Hayne's  kisses  arc  burning  on  my  lips, 
and  his  tones  of  endearment  ringing  in  my  heart !  Oh  !  if 
I  could  only  strike  them  from  my  monory  as  he  has  rifled 
my  hope !  Could  I  but  tear  his  image,  with  its  earnest 
eyes — yet  reading  my  soul — mocking  me  with  that  false 
one  of  his — from  my  life,  and  die.  Ah  !  yes,  death,  decay, 
darkness ;  anything  is  preferable  to  this  agonized  torture. 
Oh !  why  do  I  feel  as  if  there  was  no  truth  on  earth,  and 
even  God  were  false  !  For  is  not  he,  Warren  Hayne,  now 
pouring  into  the  listening  ears  of  the  woman  he  has  chosen 
the  story  of  the  miserable  little  dupe  who  thus  loved  him  ! 
whom  he  deceived  and  trifled  with !  And  she  is  gloating 
o'er  her  triumph  ! — the  triumph  achieved  through  her  paltry 
gold."  She  arose  and  walked  the  apartment  slowly ;  she 
was  not  agitated,  on  the  contrary  she  was  still  so  pretema- 
turally  calm  I  really  feared  her ;  to  arouse  gentler  thoughts 
I  spoke  of  her  mother. 

"  Oh !  my  mother,"  she  exclaimed,  something  like  terror 
rising  in  her  white  face — whiter  than  before,  but  motionless 
of  muscle  and  fibre  as  a  tablet  which  marks  a  grave  ;  "  she 
must  not  know  this,  Jennie  ;  it  would  kill  her  outright.  Let 
fio  word  on  this  subject  to  any  one  escape  your  lips.  I 
will  fight  this  battle  with  myself  alone."  She  emphasized 
the  pronoun  singularly,  that  other  self  she  meant;  she 
seemed  to  be  seeking  to  discern  it  through  new  dim  spaces 


THE  MONTANA  S.  125 

— backward  lying  in  her  life — as  she  continued :  "  Never 
name  it  even  to  me.  I  have  done  with  it  utterlv  as  thouo-h 
it  had  never  been.  I  regret  nothing  so  much  as  the  crushed 
idol  fallen  on  the  dusty  way  w^hich  I  must  tread."  She  was 
tearless  still,  but  there  was  a  look  of  such  utter  weariness  on 
her  beautiful  face  that  told  of  a  great  soul-sickness  within. 
My  heart  bled  for  her,  poor  stricken  bird,  but  I  could  only 
wait  until  the  ice  was  broken  up.  I  recalled  Warren's 
words,  the  last  evening  at  Nahant.  I  saw  as  then  the  great 
sea  with  its  waves  crashing  near,  and  the  storm  risino-  in 
its  heart.  Far  out  through  mist  in  the  depths  of  that  im- 
measurable space  into  which  she  had  drifted  I  saw  the  lone 
ship  cutting  her  silent  way,  waves  lashing  her  gilded  sides, 
wind  crashing  through  her  sails,  driving  onward  to  the  dim 
unknown.  Ah  !  could  Warren,  lashed  to  a  dull  shore  which- 
she  had  left,  do  cheerfully  his  work  of  life-  with  eyes  fixed 
on  that  timid  sail  fluttering  white  in  the  distance,  which  grew 
wider  every  hour?  I  felt  then  that  his  would  be  a  drearier 
task  than  hers  in  the  time  to  come ;  so  I  spoke  hopefully  : 

"  Stanley,  you  are  young  and  beautiful  and  proud.  Rise 
above  this  thing;  strength  will  be  given  you  to  do  so,  I 
firmly  believe.  It  will  be  hard.  I  know  what  it  is ;  for  I 
have  not  myself  been  without  sorrow.  I  tell  you  this,  that 
I  may  claim  the  privilege  of  enduring  with,  you ;  we  will 
bear  together  in  silence,  yet  in  sympathy,  this  heavy  burden, 
until  we  come  to  a  calm  resting-place  in  the  great  journey." 

"  Thank  you,  Jennie,  my  true,  true  friend ;  I  will  accept 
what  you  so  kindly  offer — confidence,  sympathy,  everythino- 
— any  other  time ;  but  to-day  I  am  better  off  alone.  Leave 
me,  dear,  and  go  to  mamma;  she  will  miss  me,  and  she 
must  not  know !  " 

There  was  both  appeal  and  warning  in  her  face :  in  it  I 
traced  a  gleam  of  the  old  self— the  childish,  guileless  self — 


123  THE  MOXTANAS. 

looking  througli  the  eyes  of  this  strong  "woman,  who  had 
so  i)roudly  mocked  the  image  of  her  idolatry  a  few  momenta 
earlier.  Seeing  this,  it  was  hard  to  leave  her ;  Lut  she 
wished  it  and  I  went.  I  heard  her  bolt  the  door ;  then  all 
day  long  she  paced  to  and  fro  ;  I,  waiting  in  dumb  anguish, 
served  her  meantime  as  best  I  could. 

Aunt  Edith  hiquired  for  Stanley.  I  answered  her  with 
as  much  cheerfulness  as  I  could  assume  ;  telling  her  Stanley 
was  suffering  from  an  attack  of  nen'ous  headache ;  had  not 
slept  the  previous  night,  and  wished  to  remain  alone  in  her 
room ;  she  would  soon  be  with  us  again.  Then  I  gave 
Hawsey  private  instructions  not  to  disturb  her  young  mis- 
tress by  going  to  her  room ;  she  was  sleeping,  and  would 
not  come  down  to  dinner.  There  was  no  one  present  when 
that  meal  was  served,  excepting  Miss  Phoebe  and  myself. 
Aunt  Edith  did  not  appear,  and  the  gentlemen  were  not 
home  until  evening.  Aunt  Dinah  was  enjoying  her  usual 
state  of  teaiful  solicitude  about  members  of  the  household 
in  general :  her  sympathy  was  manifest  in  effect.  She  con- 
sumed herself  a  double  portion  of  the  viands  left  untasted 
on  the  table,  abundantly  grateful  for  the  blessings  of  Provi- 
dence, among  which  was  health  and  strength  to  enjoy  what 
was  prepared  for  others. 

I  carried  a  dainty  little  repast  to  Stanley's  room;  but 
she  entreated  me  in  tones  of  such  broken  sufferina:  not  to 
force  anything  upon  her,  that  I  descended  again  to  the 
dining-room  with  her  food  untasted.  Aunt  Dinah's  ban- 
dana was  brought  into  solemn  requisition.  She  had  fears 
for  "  Miss  Stanley,  poor  child."  My  heart  echoed  faintly, 
"  Poor  child ! "  yet  I  felt  no  sorrow  for  her  in  that  guise, 
loving,  simple,  trustful,  hopeful — hke  that  I  now  felt  for  the 
Avoman,  full-grown,  developed  in  suffering — to  whom  these 
qualities  were  lost,  and  could  never  be  restored. 


THE  MONTANA S.  127 

All  that  long,  drowsy  afternoon,  with  a  secret  knowled^-e 
how  the  spirit  of  this  woman,  stricken  and  proud,  was 
striving  with  itself,  I  did  my  duty  as  usual ;  I  read  aloud 
for  Aunt  Edith  while  Hawsey  brushed  and  plaited  her  long 
brown  hair.  Miss  Phoebe  sat  knitting,  gentle  and  still, 
while  the  sunshine  came  in,  barring  walls  and  pictures,  the 
bookcase,  and  bed  where  Aunt  Edith  sat  propped  by  pil- 
lows— bringing  upon  shining  wings  the  odor  of  flowers 
— faded  and  gone  like  the  summer  the  murmur  of  the 
fountain — all  were  alike  to  what  they  were  on  a  certain 
morning  when  I  noted  them  before.  The  group,  wanting 
one  fio-ure,  was  likewise  the  same.  I  heard  the  words  of 
Hawsey  in  her  idle  talk,  mingled  with  the  steady  rattle  of 
Miss  Phoebe's  needles  as  she  knitted  into  the  fabric  of  other 
strange  occurrences,  the  broken  threads  of  this  broken  dream 
of  Stanley's.  Its  crash  had  not  yet  jarred  upon  the  house- 
hold, which  moved  in  the  routine  habitual  to  it.  The  har- 
mony was  still  unbroken.  Golden  ripples  of  sunlight  crept 
lower  on  the  wall;  at  length  the  shining  track  grew  crimson  and 
disappeared  entirely.  Grey  twilight  came  softly;  then  the 
dimmest  of  darkness  fell  upon  the  picture  and  broken  dream. 
The  sun  was  gone  doAvn  into  a  great,  wide,  inexorable  sea. 

I  heard  Raymond's  voice  in  the  hall  calling,  as  usual,  for 
his  sister.  I  was  amazed  at  the  black,  lowering  brow  with 
which  he  received  the  intelligence  that  she  was  not  well. 
He  gave  me  a  piercing  look,  which  I  answered  with  a  glance 
of  assurance  to  him  that  she  knew  all  and  would  bear  it  bravely. 
He  drew  me  with  him  into  the  dining-room,  in  obedience  to 
some  little  words  of  caution  which  I  dropped  concerning  Aunt 
Edith.  There  he  drew  ft'om  each  pocket  a  revolver,  burnished 
and  glittering,  with  silver-mountings  flashing  in  the  dim  light. 

"  In  the  name  of  Heaven,  Ray,  what  would  you  do  with 
those  terrible  engines  of  death  ? " 


12S  THE  MOXTANAS. 

"  In  the  name  of  Heaven^''  he  answered,  "  I  shall  kill  that 
contemptible  villain  who  has  deceived  and  wronged  uiy 
sister."  There  was,  indeed,  murder  in  his  eyes  !  I  could 
only  shrink  and  tremble  ;  I  was  powerless  to  do  or  say  any- 
thing that  would  turn  him  from  his  purpose.  Poor,  poor 
Stanley  !  Our  pet,  our  pride,  our  sunshine  !  It  was  upon 
her  that  Warren  Hayne  had  put  this  bitter  insult.  I  saw 
it  now  in  that  light.  Before,  I  had  only  thought  of  the 
suffering  she  must  endure.  My  tears  fell  fast  and  burning, 
though  I  gulped  down  the  hump  in  my  throat  and  went  to 
Ray,  her  brother,  so  stricken  at  the  thought  of  her  grief, 
lifted  the  matted  curls  from  his  fevered  brow,  and  running 
my  fingers  through  them,  as  was  his  custom,  I  essayed  to 
speak — with  poor  success.  He  promised,  however,  to  aid 
us  in  keeping  the  knowledge  of  what  concerned  us  all  so 
nearly  from  his  mother.  He  did  not  relinquish,  yet  did 
not  repeat  the  threat  of  vengeance  :  I  saw  his  purpose 
deepening  as  the  darkness  gathered  without — growing  more 
solemn  and  certain  of  fulfilment  every  hour.  Yes,  I  saw 
it,  trembling  with  dread. 

It  was  a  strangre,  dismal  meetinor  round  the  tea-table  that 
evening.  My  uncle  was  not  present ;  Clyde  was  moodily 
silent,  as  usual  ;  Raymond's  brow  wore  somewhat  the  aspect 
of  gathering  thunderbolts.  As  for  myself,  I  was  thinking 
of  Stanley's  strange  words  in  the  forenoon,  and  did  the 
honors  constrainedly.  Ray  pushed  his  plate  away,  to  the 
discomfiture  of  Aunt  Dinah,  who  had  broiled  his  quails  to 
the  nicest  shade  of  brownness,  leaving  them  untasted,  and 
went  slowly  up-stairs.  I  heard  him  knock  once,  twice, 
thrice,  at  the  door  of  Stanley's  apartments.  He  was  ad- 
mitted, and  remained  a  long  time  ;  finally,  when  he  came 
down,  looking  softened  and  subdued,  the  thought  of  his 
threatened  vengeance  passed  out  of  my  mind.     I  carried  a 


THE  MONTANAS.  129 

cup  of  tea  to  Stanley  to  please  poor  Aunt  Dinah,  wlio  was 
growing  more  and  more  wretched  and  tearful  every  hour  for 
the  shortcomings  of  our  degenerate  household. 

I  found  my  friend  lying  on  a  couch,  her  beautiful  hair 
streaming  wildly  over  her  white  pillow.  Hawsey  followed 
with  a  lamp,  but  Ray  had  lighted  one  of  the  wax  tapers 
which  stood  on  her  toilet,  so  I  motioned  the  faithful  girl  to 
leave  us  ;  she  obeyed  with  tears  in  her  eyes  ;  they  were  in 
mine  too.  I  prevailed  on  Stanley  to  drink  the  tea ;  she 
was  very  pale,  but  I  was  rejoiced  that  no  trace  of  the 
haughty  woman,  who  had  so  sternly  looked  her  desolation 
in  the  face,  remained.  She  was  tearful  and  silent,  yet  ap- 
peared patient  and  gentle  as  a  child.  She  wound  her  arms 
about  my  neck  and  kissed  me  ;  well  I  understood  that  silent 
caress.  She  was  mutely  asking  my  pardon  for  what  trans- 
pired in  the  morning ;  I  looked  my  forgiveness  all,  but  not 
a  tithe  of  the  great  love  which  made  her  a  possession  of 
my  own.  I  told  her  I  was  vain  enough  to  feel  that  I  had 
a  place  in  her  heart  which  no  one  else  could  fill,  and  that 
when  the  wheel  went  round  and  she  came  back  to  the  place 
where  she  had  left  me,  she  would  want  me  then  and  would 
not  hesitate  to  let  me  know  it.  And  so  it  happened  from 
that  hour — in  every  conflict  with  herself  she  achieved  a 
victory  over  that  stern,  hard  usurper  of  the  morning  all  alone. 

On  the  following  day  Stanley  arose  and  went  about  her 
ordinary  life  as  usual;  dissevered  from  the  life  that  was 
ended,  yet  never  looking  back;  no,  nor  forward  to  that 
which  was  to  come ;  she  took  her  place  at  her  mother's  side 
as  though  nothing  had  happened.  The  severest  mandate 
of  grief  is  that  we  are  ofttimes  forced  to  wear  a  mask  with 
which  to  hide  its  gnawings. 

Stanley's  embroidery  was  resumed ;  the  knitting  was  in 
a  comfortable  state  of  progression.     Hawsey  combed  Aunt 


]  30  THE  MOKTANAS. 

Edith's  lono:  hair,  whilst  I  read  from  the  crrcat  volume. 
The  father  did  his  work  of  life  in  the  city,  assisted  by  Ray- 
mond and  Clyde ;  in  our  household  everything  was  going 
on  as  it  was  wont  to  do ;  only  I  observed  with  pain  how 
Stanley  grew  whiter,  more  silently  taciturn  day  by  day. 
She  often  spent  hours  by  herself;  during  which  seasons, 
with  the  effort  of  keeping  from  Aunt  Edith  and  the  servants 
the  knowledge  of  her  sorrow,  my  energies  were  taxed  to 
the  uttermost. 

One  afternoon  she  sat  for  a  long  time  listlessly  looking 
into  space.  I  think  she  was  unconscious  of  her  attitude  of 
deep  pre-occupation  until  aroused  by  words  of  her  mother : 

"  "V\Tiere  has  been  my  sunshine  of  late  ?  She  seems  to 
have  taken  refuo^e  behind  an  overarchhig:  cloud  of  silence 
and  reserve.     Stanley,  my  pet,  what  is  the  matter  ? " 

"jNTothing,"  the  white  lips  answered. 

"  Nothing,  dearest,  are  you  sure  ? " 

Again  the  white  lips  moved,  though  now  'twas  only  an 
echo,  repeated  more  faintly — "  Nothing." 

The  swift  fingers  of  Miss  Phoebe  entwined  the  disavowal 
with  her  record  of  events.  Hawsey's  bright  eyes  were  full 
of  unshed  tears  as  she  trailed  the  coil  of  rich  brown  hair 
into  a  Grecian  knot,  then  went  out  to  shed  them  in  secret. 

Aunt  Edith's  head  drooped  lower  on  the  pillow;  her 
heavy  lids  fell  dreamily  upon  two  sunken  cheeks.  To  her 
life  was  a  spirit  fetter,  nothing  more ;  yet  to  Stanley 

Ah !  w^as  it  nothing  that  the  strong  stay  had  failed  her 
when  most  loved  and  trusted  ?  Nothing  that  the  \xy  ten- 
drils of  her  sweet  afi*ection  had  been  rudely  torn  from  their 
support,  and  lay  crushed  and  withered  on  the  earth? 
Nothing  that  the  universe  was  changed  and  the  light  of  day 
gone  from  the  face  of  heaven?  Ah!  nothing;  the  white 
lips  said  so.     My  heart  repeated  the  echo  of  other  words 


THE  MONTANAS.  13\ 

spoken  by  other  lips  in  other  time  and  place,  when  the 
chain  was  cemented,  and  two  shadows  blent  in  moonbeams 
on  the  sanded  floor;  as  Warren  Hayne  led  Stanley  forth 
one  evening  long  ago.  The  world,  which  seemed  now  so 
narrow  and  blank,  then  was  wide  and  fair,  and  life  was  beau- 
tiful ;  but  now,  all  this  was  nothing !  I  repeated  the  word 
in  the  depths  of  my  spirit  many  times.  Only  another 
stricken  heart  deprived  of  its  anchor,  hope  ;  from  a  twin 
bark  dissevered,  drifting  out  with  the  great  tides  of  human 
destiny.  The  orange  wreath  lay  withered  where  the  foun- 
tain fell — the  beautiful  river  was  lost  amid  barren  sands  on 
a  desolate  shore ;  its  golden  ripples  broken  to  ebb  no  more, 
and  a  solitary  ship  driving  on  through  mist  and  darkness, 
outward  to  the  far-lying  sea.  I  began  to  feel  it  my 
duty  to  inform  Aunt  Edith  what  had  occurred  to  make 
this  change  in  Stanley.  I  signified  to  her  my  intention  of 
imparting  something  of  importance;  she  bade  me  send 
Hawsey  out  of  the  room.  Miss  Phoebe  was  to  remain  ;  she 
was  one  of  us.  I  had  commenced  my  narrative  of  sorrow- 
ful events,  with  which  the  reader  is  fully  acquainted,  when 
Retta  Austin  dashed  into  the  room  like  a  domestic  tempest. 
She  took  great  liberties  in  our  household,  so  she  informed 
us ;  half  expecting  we  would  gainsay  a  fact  of  which  we  were 
all  too  sensible.  She  excused  herself,  however,  upon  the 
ground  of  her  anxiety  respecting  Mrs.  Montana's  precarious 
health.  It  was  this  which  induced  her  to  avail  herself  of 
the  opportunity  of  coming  out  with  Lane,  who  was  on  his 
way  to  Brightland.  Her  quick  eye  caught  Aunt  Edith's 
look  of  depression,  and  my  own  of  inattention,  as  she  rat- 
tled on  in  her  voluble  fashion  for  a  while ;  then  inquired  of 
Miss  Phoebe  for  Stanley.  The  gentle  little  woman  replied 
by  looking  hopelessly  in  my  direction ;  which  appeal  I 
readily  interpreted,   and  replied  that  Miss  Montana  was 


1 3  2  THE  MONTANA  S. 

suffering  from  a  severe  attack  of  headache,  and  requested 
to  be  excused  to  visitors. 

"IIow  long  has  she  been  thus  affected?"  she  answered, 
with  sarcastic  coldness.  I  saw  the  drift  of  her  thoughts — 
knew  before  the  reason  of  her  coming ;  Miss  Austin  never 
did  the  slightest  thing  without  a  concealed  purpose.  I 
replied,  with  a  haughtiness  which  equalled  her  own,  "that 
Stanley  had  lain  down  since  dinner."  She  sat  for  some 
time  biting  the  fingers  of  her  dainty  glove ;  at  length  she 
said,  sharply : 

"  I  presume  you  were  all  much  surprised  to  hear  of  Mr. 
Hayne's  marriage  ! " 

Miss  Phoebe's  knitting-work  actually  dropped  from  her 
fingers.  I-  answered  -Aunt  Edith's  glance  of  inquiry  with 
an  aflirmative  gesture,  merely  signifying  that  this  was 
what  I  meant  to  tell  her.  She  composed  her  face  with  an 
effort  for  which  I  blessed  her  in  my  heart,  and  replied  that 
she  had  felt  very  little  emotion  on  the  subject. 

"  Oh,  no,  of  course  not ;  the  difference  to  any  one  at 
Claremont  would  be  very  slight,  whether  Mr.  Hayne  were 
married  or  single  in  one  sense ;  though  I  supposed  his 
friends  " — she  emphasized  the  word — "  and  relatives  " — 
here  she  looked  at  me — "  would  naturally  feel  some  little 
interest  in  his  welfare,  if  only  to  rejoice  in  his  having  secured 
to  himself  so  fortunate  an  alliance.  Miss  Strawbridge  is  a 
great  beauty,  you  know,  besides  being  a  millionaire!''' 

I  was  only  consoled  in  our  joint  endurance  of  this  last 
palpable  insult,  to  feel  how  these  words  had  ploughed 
through  Retta  Austin's  haughty  heart  and  left  their  furrows 
there.  I  felt  I  never  could  have  been  brought  to  retaliate 
in  the  spirit  which  prompted  her  to  say  these  things ;  for 
she  too  loved  my  cousin  Warren  with  all  the  strength  and 
fidelity  of  which  a  nature  like  hers  was  capable.     Both 


THE  MONT  AN  AS.  133 

Aunt  Edith  and  myself  were  silent.  When  the  black  eves 
were  brought  to  bear  on  Miss  Phoebe  she  merely  said, 
"  Indeed ;  I  was  not  aware  he  had  been  so  favored."  Her 
speech  referred  merely  to  the  money  arrangement,  after 
which  she  resumed  her  knitting  with  the  usual  quietness. 

After  a  few  cursory  observations,  each  pointed  and  signifi- 
cant, Miss  Austin  took  from  her  pocket  a  tiny  rose-colored 
note,  sealed  and  scented,  which  she  left  with  Aunt  Edith 
for  Raymond,  remarking  merely  that  it  contained  com- 
missions which  he  had  promised  to  execute  for  her  in  the 
East. 

I  fear  my  face  must  have  expressed  the  terror  I  felt ;  I 
knew  I  was  pale;  the  life-blood  was  sinkmg  slowly,  and  a 
coil  of  agony  seemed  tightening  around  my  heart.  I 
answered  quietly  as  I  could : 

"  Of  course,  he  will  take  great  pleasure ;  he  goes,  let  me 
see,  when  ? " 

"  This  afternoon,  I  think ;  he  told  me  he  thought  he 
should  leave  on  the  five  o'clock  boat  to-day.  I  called  at 
the  bank,  but  failing  to  find  him,  I  came  this  far  with 
Lane.     Of  course  you  will  see  him  ere  he  departs." 

I  was  agonized  beyond  expression  ;  Miss  Austin,  without 
designing  to  do  so,  had  been  of  infinite  service  to  me. 
There  was  no  time  to  lose.  I  rang  the  bell  and  ordered  the 
carriage  hastily ;  left  Aunt  Edith  with  a  promise  to  return 
speedily  as  possible.  I  then  went  to  Stanley's  room  and 
informed  her  what  must  be  done,  and  done  quickly.  She 
was  lying  listlessly,  her  slender  fingers  clasped  over  her 
white  brow,  from  which  her  golden  hair  was  flowing.  It 
seemed  cruel  to  bring  this  new  terror  upon  her,  though 
she  was  prompt  to  feel  the  force  and  exigency  of  the  case. 
When  the  carriage  came  round  we  were  ready  to  depart. 
Swiftly  down  the  road  over  which  Clyde  and  I  had  passed 


134  TEE  MONTANAS. 

on  that  bright  morning  in  the  autumn-time  we  glided  now. 
On  through  busy  thoroughfares  and  avenues  all  shady  and 
fragrant  with  the  breath  of  exotics,  and  by  streets  crisp 
and  sere,  teeming  with  life  that  was  warped  and  withered, 
we  passed  to  Uncle  Montana's  banking-house.  Raymond 
was  gone.  We  threaded  our  way  through  the  busy 
throng  on  the  levee,  in  imminent  danger  of  being  swallowed 
up  in  the  tumultuous  din,  w^hen  Lane  Austin,  who  had 
come  down  to  superintend  his  father's  shipments  a  moment 
before,  rescued  us  with  great  suavity.  In  answer  to  my 
inquiry  he  said,  "Raymond  is  on  board.  I  saw  him 
standing  with  Ingram  on  the  upper  guard.  I  will  en- 
deavor to  secure  his  attention  for  you."  So  saying,  he 
conducted  us  aboard,  and  after  a  few  inquiries  at  the  oflSce, 
led  us  back  to  an  apartment  near  the  ladies'  saloon,  in 
which  sat  the  truants  for  whom  we  were  searching..  The 
door  was  partially  ajar ;  I  saw  at  a  glance  that  Clyde's 
attitude  was  one  of  eager  appeal,  while  Ray,  our  bright 
sunny  Ray  of  old,  now  he  was  moody  and  still,  his  brows 
knitted  in  angry,  gloomy  defiance.  How  changed  he  was 
of  late  !  He  started  slightly  on  beholding  us,  but  recovered 
himself  instantly  ;  he  endeavored  to  carry  off  with  a  high 
hand  the  part  which  he  meant  to  play  in  this  new,  strange 
drama,  though  he  found  the  effort  very  difficult  beneath 
the  calm  scrutiny  of  his  sister.  She  bent  her  white  face 
over  him  with  a  look  from  which  there  was  no  es- 
cape;  she  would  speak,  and  he  must  listen;  and  he  did, 
thouo^h  the  look  of  firm  determination  did  not  leave  his 
glorious  eyes  even  when  he  resolved  to  hear  all  that  she 
wished  to  say. 

There  was  no  visible  emotion  when  she  did  speak  in  her 
face  or  voice,  only  she  crushed  my  hand  until  the  little 
plain    gold    ring,  my    love-gift  of  childhood,   was  almost 


THE  MONTANAS.  135 

buried  in  the  flesh.  My  eyes  followed  the  donor — once  a 
brother,  now  so  no  more — as  he  passed  through  an  outer 
door  to  the  guard,  and  stood  watching  the  sun-bright  sur- 
face of  the  calm,  still  river,  and  the  winter  sun,  half  hidden 
in  its  heart.  Bright  beams  gathered  round,  seeming  to 
caress  him  with  their  sheen,  while  their  fiery  fingers  toyed 
with  his  dark-brown  locks,  and  danced  to  fairy  music  in  the 
clear  depths  of  his  splendid  eyes.  How  strangely  Stanley's 
words  broke  on  the  spell  with  which  I  contemplated  him — 
his  attitude  and  expression. 

"  Ray,  why  did  you  leave  us,  with  never  a  word  of  fare- 
well?" 

The  brother  was  silent;  he  did  not  tell  her  it  was 
because  he  had  seen  how  that  silent  sorrow  was  daily 
making  inroads  in  her  young  life,  and  he  could  not  bear  to 
meet  the  look  in  her  white  face,  mute  evidence  of  the 
change  la  few  short  hours  had  made.  He  who  loved  her 
did  not  tell  her  what  was  in  his  thought  and  mind ;  how 
we  had  in  her  home  seen  the  orange  blossoms  lying  crisp 
and  withered;  and  through  the  crushed  and  broken  dream 
no  golden  river  glided.  The  rosy  current,  like  the  last 
tint  from  the  sunset  sky,  had  faded,  and  there  were  only  the 
white,  still  waters  of  her  young  existence  bearing  the  frag- 
ments of  a  morning  hope  to  the  far  sea.  Our  hearts  bled 
at  the  sight ;  we  could  not  bear  to  look  upon  it,  though  there 
was  majesty  in  those  depths  of  woman-nature  thus  revealed 
by  the  sudden  sorrow — the  majesty  of  one  ready  for  the 
journey — equipped  for  the  warfare  with  life  and  with  fate. 
In  answer  to  this  new-bom  strength  and  power,  profound 
respect  was  added  to  her  brother's  fondness  for  his  sister. 
The  recognition  of  these  attributes  trembled  in  his  tones 
when  he  answered  her : 

"  Stanley,  I  did  not  teU  you,  because — because  T  go  to 


136  THE  MONTANA S. 

settle  a  terrible  account  with  one  who  has  wronged  you." 
He  broke  down  here  utterly ;  the  faintest  flicker  of  color, 
like  the  tinge  of  crushed  roses,  came  up  in  her  white  cheeks 
for  a  moment,  then  sank  again ;  a  wave  of  the  old  life 
touched  once  again  the  desolate  coast  where  she  was 
stranded.  She  did  not  falter  in  her  purpose.  I  have  heard 
such  words  but  once,  and  hope  I  shall  never  hear  them 
again.  Oh !  the  eloquence  of  woman's  lips,  trampling 
pride  with  every  selfish  consideration  beneath  her  feet ;  she 
can  only  speak  as  Stanley  did  when  pleading  for  the  life  of 
him  she  loved,  who  was  so  far  and  yet  so  near.  Ah !  so 
near,  his  presence  in  her  own  home — w^alking  its  paths 
with  his  kingly  tread,  crushing  the  flowers  he  scattered 
there.  Nearer  still,  enshrined  in  her  innermost  heart  of 
hearts,  yet  smiling  peacefully  from  out  blue  spaces  lying 
misty  and  far — distant  beyond  an  eternal  gulf,  immutable  as 
the  shining  heavens  and  the  word  that  "shall  not  pass 
away." 

"  Raymond,  once  for  all,  if  you  love  me — if  you  have 
ever  done  so — hear  me  now.  You  must  not  go  to  Warren 
Hayne  as  the  champion  of  a  proud  woman  who  would  not 
thus  admit  and  acknowledge  his  slight,  if  I  died  for  locking 
it  in  my  heart.  Do  not  cast  this  stigma  upon  me.  His 
life  could  not  bring  back  my  trust  if  he  lost  it,  neither 
could  that  atone  for  what  I  should  sufi"er  in  the  knowledge 
that  my  name  w^as  bandied,  the  plaything  of  careless  sport-  ' 
ing  tongues,  as  one  whom  he  had  won,  betrayed,  and  for- 
saken. You  have  not  thought  earnestly  of  this  thing,  else, 
even  in  your  just  desire  for  vengeance,  you  would  not  render 
me  liable  to  what  I  should  incur  in  the  event  of  his  death 
at  your  hands.  Besides,  you  mistake  me  ;  I  do  not  regret 
Warren  now ;  'tis  only  what  perished  with  him — my  glorious 
ideal  of  manliness,  my  former  self-^that  wasted  year,  and 


THE  MONTANAS.  137 

all  tlie  other  things  that  would  never  come  back  to  me  in 
this  world,  if  he  should  die  a  thousand  times  over. 

"  Besides,  again,  he  may  not  be  so  culpable  as  we  deem 
him ;  the  tenor  of  his  brief  letter  I  do  not  comprehend;  it 
is  ambiguous.  ^\Tiat  can  he  mean  by  this  sarcastic  refer- 
ence to  miserable  misunderstandings  that  have  occurred, 
and  the  letters  he  has  written  me  that  have  remained  un- 
answered ?  Why,  because  they  were  never  received ;  then 
his  closing  benediction  :  '  I  hope  you  will  be  happy  in  your 
choice.    Perhaps  it  was  all  for  the  best.'    ^ATiat  can  it  mean  ? " 

"  I  regard  that  as  a  miserable  subterfuge ;  nevertheless, 
yours  is  perhaps  the  right  view  of  the  subject.  It  shall  be 
as  you  say.  Now  I  wish  to  speak  to  you  of  other  things, 
of  which  Clyde  and  I  have  talked  this  morning ;  matters 
are  arranged  for  your  acceptance  or  rejection." 

I  left  them  here,  and  passed  out  through  the  door,  and 
stood  beside  Clyde  in  that  strange  silence  which  of  late 
was  with  us  always. 

"  Were  you  aware  of  Raymond's  purpose  of  visiting  the 
North  ? "  I  asked,  at  length. 

"  Yes,"  he  answered,  somewhat  drily ;  "  though  I  imagine 
his  main  object  was  to  meet  cousin  Mary ;  though  I  believe 
he  would  have  held  Hayne  accountable  for  his  recent  con- 
duct towards  our  sister." 

Our  sister !  I  was  not  his  sister ;  he  had  told  me  so  once, 
and  I  was  thinking  of  it  as  he  stood  looking  dreamily  at 
the  water,  then  at  the  far-off  sky,  where  it  met  and  embraced 
the  sea.  Again  the  silence;  I  thought  now  it  would  never 
end.  What  if  it  should  last  from  gliding  age  to  age  through- 
out eternity  ?  Yet  better  this  than  the  words  which  dropped 
slowly  like  molten  iron  on  my  heart,  and  hardened  as  they  fell. 

"  Aljean,  I  believe  you  love  me  as  a  sister,  though 
sometimes  I  have  been  led  to  doubt  even  that.     Xow  I 


138  «      THE  MOXTANAS. 

want  to  ask  your  advice  on  a  subject  of  \'ital  interest  to  all 
concerned  in  it  My  step-father,  wlio,  as  you  know,  has 
ever  been  indulgent  and  kind  to  me,  has  long  ago  set  his 
heart  upon  ha\dng  us  married — Stanley  and  myself.  He 
has  frequently  referred  the  subject  to  me  indirectly.  Until 
recently  I  have  set  the  issue  far  from  both  of  us.  Now  she 
is  unhappy ;  if  I,  in  my  sad  way,  can  do  anght  to  make  the 
thorny  path  a  little  smoother  for  her  feet,  I  will  endeavor 
to  do  so  if  I  assume  the  sacred  duty.  Let  me  hear  what 
you  have  to  say  ;  what  I  offer  her  rests  with  you  entirely." 

Reader,  I  thouo-ht  he  was  mockinoj  me :  and  mv  answering 
words  fell  seethingly  from  lips  that  were  rigid  and  cold. 

"  And  you  submit  this  to  me,  Clyde  Ingram  ?  How 
could  weak  words  of  mine  weigh  against  the  voice  of  your 
heart  ?  It  would  be  as  a  faint  echo  amid  its  sounds,  a  thing 
of  air.  What  is  my  poor  opinion  worth  to  a  man  that 
stands  so  far  beyond  me — up  among  those  rising  stars  yon- 
der ?  Yet  you  have  asked  it,  and  you  shall  have  it.  Marry 
Stanley  by  all  means  !  She  is  not  particularly  fond  of  you, 
to  be  sure,  but  you,  who  have  loved  so  long  and  so  ardently, 
can  allow  for  the  lack  on  her  part.  If  she  can  unlearn  somo 
other  lessons  of  her  life,  she  may  come  in  time  to  love  you." 

"  According  to  the  evidence  of  your  words  and  manner 
it  would  be  an  exceedingly  difficult  task,"  he  answered, 
with  bitter  calmness ;  "  as  regards  what  you  say  concerning 
my  life-long  devotion  to  her,  I  should  certainly  deem  you 
insane  did  not  other  passionless  utterances  convince  me  to 
the  contrary.  You  have  clearly  forgotten,  I  see,  what  it 
gives  me  both  pain  and  pleasure  to  remember ;  but  that  is 
far  back  in  the  past.  I  too  will  try  to  forget  it  has  ever 
been,  since  you  have  not  only  outgrown  the  memory  but 
have  chosen  to  ignore  the  fact  that  the  tnith  ever  existed. 
Mine  will  not  be  a  long  life  ;  I  have  a  prophetic  assurance 


THE  M  OS  TANAS.  139 

that  you  will  surv^ive  me  many  years.  Some  time,  when  tlie 
grass  is  growing  through  and  through  my  heart,  or  the 
snow  lies  cold  upon  it,  you  will  count  its  throbs  of  these 
silent  days  and  know  why  I  submit  to  you  this  last  appeal 
under  so  strange  a  semblance.  You  will  know  it  all  then, 
and  in  the  solitudes  of  coming  years  the  burden  of  a  prayer 
gone  by  will  come  to  you,  from  which  you  turned  to-day. 
Yours  nmst  be  the  final  fiat.  These  months  of  silence  are 
your  wish  and  will ;  I  have  taken  no  appeal  from  them  save 
this ;  jou  can  take  none  upon  the  silent  ages  that  ensue." 

For  answer  I  drew  the  little  ring,  which  I  had  worn  so 
long,  from  my  finger  and  placed  it  in  his  hand,  t  even 
tried  to  smile  when  I  said,  "  It  must  be  yours  now,  Clyde  ; 
you  will  soon  be  a  married  man,  you  know." 

"  There  is  one  thing  needful,"  he  added,  in  tones  whose 
bitterness  was  tempered  with  graceful  humor — "  Stanley's 
consent.  Cannot  you  and  Mr.  Austin  take  the  prece- 
dence ? " 

In  my  astonishment  I  never  knew  how  it  came  to  pass 
that  Stanley,  for  her  dear  mother's  sake,  put  her  hand  in 
Clyde's  and  murmured  some  words  about  doing  her  duty 
towards  him.  Ah  !  she  never  thought  then  of  any  vaster 
duty  omitted  in  the  very  onset.  A  simple  act  of  the  State 
Legislature  can  legalize,  but  can  it  do  the  rest  of  many 
things  involved  in  a  marriage  whose  chiefest  consideration 
is  of  duty  that  should  be  pleasure  ? 

Lane  Austin  came  to  see  us  on  the  shore,  appropriating 
rae  to  himself  naturally  as  though  I  belonged  to  him.  Then 
we  left  Ray,  charged  with  a  kind  farewell  to  his  mother, 
standing  on  the  guard ;  and  when  Lane  saw  us  safely  in  our 
carriage,  he,  too,  went  his  way,  and  we  three  in  the  winter 
twilight  drove  back  to  Claremont.  Clyde  silent,  as  usual ; 
Stanley's  head  upon  my  shoulder,  her  beautiful  hair  all  wet 


140  TUE  MOXTANAS. 

with  mist  or  tears,  I  know  not  which.  It  all  happened  so 
strangely,  yet  we  found  ourselves  sitting  quietly  in  Aunt 
Edith's  room ;  Hawsey  was  sleeping  bolt  upright  on  a 
cushion,  and  Miss  Phoebe's  busy  needles  were  knitting  into 
the  eternal  mesh  the  events  of  this  strange  day.  My  past 
life,  as  I  recalled  it,  seemed  like  some  wild,  weird  dream, 
broken  here  and  there  by  the  gleaming  of  a  golden  river  of 
hope ;  but  the  bitter  agony  with  which  I  too  fought  my 
battle  to  its  close  and  the  victory  achieved  through  God's 
aid,  that  was  not  a  dream. 

A  few  evenings  after  I  stood  upon  the  veranda  which 
bordered  the  west  parlor  looking  out  upon  the  far  sea,  lying 
cold  and  solemn  and  grey  in  the  star-spangled  starlight, 
when  a  low  voice  beside  me  asked : 

"  Of  what  were  you  thinking,  Jennie  ? " 

I  started  slightly  ;  a  shiver  ran  through  my  frame  :  a  shi- 
ver that  was  half  delight  and  half  the  chill  of  fate ;  but  I 
answered  in  low  firm  tones,  with  the  voice  that  always  came 
to  me  in  my  childish  days — 

"I  was  recalling  a  portion  of  Maud  Miiller;  you  remem- 
ber reading  it  to  me  one  evening  when  we  sat  under  tho 
cedars  at  Brightland — 

"  '  For  of  all  sad  words  of  tongue  or  pen, 

The  saddest  are  these — '  It  might  have  been. ' " 

"  Whittier  was  wrong,  Jennie.  There  are  words  sadder 
far  than  these — of  fuller,  more  bitter  significance — '  It 
could  not  6e.' " 

To  my  death  hour  I  shaU  never  quite  forget  the  tones  in 
which  Clyde  Ingram  uttered  these  words.  I  can  hear  their 
cadence  still,  and  feel  again  the  same  wild  impulse  rising  in 
my  heart,  to  ask — Vslij  it  could  not  be  ?  Had  I  done  so,  the 
barriers  would  all  have  been  swept  away ;  but.  some  fate 


THE  MONTANA  S.  141 

kept  me  silent,  and  the  struggle  with  which  that  silence 
was  rife,  Clyde  Ingram  never  knew.  Now  at  the  close  of 
years,  which  have  rung  their  deep  and  solemn  changes 
in  between — I  conclude  that  quotation  as  though  he  was 
this  day  my  hstener: 

"  Ah  I  well  for  us  all  some  sweet  hope  lies 
Deeply  buried  from  human  eyes ; 
And  in  the  hereafter  angels  may 
Roll  the  stone  from  its  grave  away." 


CHAPTER  IX. 

Spring  came — 

"  Flowers  in  the  valley,  splendor  in  the  beam : 
"Wealth  in  the  gale,  and  freshness  in  the  stream." 

Its  whisper  was  in  the  breeze,  from  the  lake  and  the 
moon,  from  the  sea.  All  its  voices  were  sounds  of  glad- 
ness;  flow^ers  up-sprang  where  footprints  were  sunny 
through  woodland  ways.  In  our  bright,  beautifnl  home 
were  flowers  and  sunshine  everywhere,  without  and  within. 

"  The  world  leads  round  the  seasons  in  a  choir — 
For  ever  changing  and  for  ever  new." 

"  Blending  the  grand,  the  beautiful  and  gay, 
The  mournful  and  the  tender  in  one  strain." 

Though  in  our  home  there  was  a  white  face  growing 
whiter  day  by  day,  we  were  happy  that  she  lingered  with 
us. "  Now  there  was  no  denying  the  fact — Aunt  Edith  was 
sinking  slowly  :  the  unfailing  needles  of  Miss  Phoebe  told 
the  story.  During  the  oft-repeated  recital  we  often  saw 
how  their  lustre  was  dimmed  with  silent  falling  tears ;  the 


142  THE  MONT AK AS. 

result  was,  they  were  a  trifle  more  tardy  in  their  round  of 
duty  than  formerly. 

Oh !  it  is  dreadful  to  watch  the  slow  consumption  of 
vitality — a  lingering  death  in  life.  It  has  ever  been  my 
prayer  that  to  me  or  mine  it  should  not  come. 

Stanley  sat  all  day  long  now  by  her  mother's  side ;  yet 
when  evening  came — soft  and  balmy  as  evenings  this  season 
and  clime  are  wont  to  do — when  Aunt  Edith  slept  a  sleep 
of  exhaustion,  she  would  steal  into  her  own  beautiful  room 
and  sit  thinking,  with  her  eyes  fixed  on  a  little  silver  track 
of  moonlight  that  always  came  and  rested,  brightened  and 
faded  at  her  feet.  On  coming  one  evening  to  her  room, 
while  she  sat  musing  thus,  I  saw  that  the  disc  was  overcast 
and  the  little  beam  paler  even  than  usual. 

"  Stanley,  darling,  why  do  you  sit  here  in  the  shadow  ? 
come  into  the  piazza,  it  is  \ery  bright  without,"  she 
answered  sorrowfully. 

"You  are  right;  but  I  do  not  enjoy  so  much  what  is 
given  alike  to  all  the  world.  This  little  ray  is  mine.  It 
seems  a  symbol  of  your  dear  generous  love,  Jennie,  which 
always  comes  to  seek  me  out  when  sitting  lonely  in  the 
shadow  at  evening  time." 

I  kissed  the  sweet,  white  face  upturned  to  mine,  lovingly 
as  of  old.  The  tears  that  were  in  my  heart,  despite  my 
effort,  would  break  hoarsely  into  my  voice  when  I  spoke. 

"  Yes,  I  come  to  seek  you,  Stanley ;  sometimes  when  I 
fear  I  am  annoying  you — often  when  I  should  leave  you  to 
yourself;  but  the  house  seems  to  want  you,  and  then  I  too 
need  you  so  much.  It  is  from  no  merit  of  mine  this  love 
for  you  in  my  heart  so  constantly  arises,  and  will  not  be 
put  down.  You  yourself  compel  the  sentiment  by  render- 
ing yourself  necessary  to  my  happiness.  I  hope  I  shall 
never  see  the  day  that  will  separate  us  entirely." 


THE  MONTANAS.  143 

"  Nor  I,  Jennie ;  you  must  live  with  me  always  after ;  after 
this  marriage,  you  know."  She  spoke  resolutely — shudder- 
ingly.  It  was  the  first  time  since  the  evening  of  Ray's 
departure — in  all  our  confidences — this  subject  had  come 
between  us.  Now  I  trembled  so  \'iolently,  I  feared  lest  she 
should  observe  my  agitation  and  divine  the  cause ;  I  adopted 
the  subterfuge  of  appearing  to  misinterpret  her.  I  turned 
my  face  away  as  I  answered  carelessly,  taking  first  the  pre- 
caution to  steel  my  voice  against  the  pain  that  was  rankling 
in  my  heart : 

"  Yes,  I  presume  Ray  and  Mary  will  marry  very  soon.  I 
imagrined  as  much  on  first  becominor  aware  of  his  intention 
to  estabUsh  himself  in  busmess  at  the  North." 

It  was  long  before  she  spoke.  Eye  and?  thought  strayed 
from  her  little  track  of  moonlight,  out  upon  the  purple  space 
upwards,  where  worlds  shone  dimly  and  far  offj  like  the 
dream  and  prayer  gone  by. 

"  No,  Jennie,  you  do  not  understand  me  ;  it  is  not  Ray's 
marriage  to  which  I  refer,  it  is  my  own  ;  yes,  my  own  !  I 
have  come  to  a  point  from  which  I  can  estimate  very  calmly 
things  that  must  be ;  they  are  in  my  destiny  and  will  hap- 
pen ;  I  cannot  avoid  them — I  shall  try  to  do  so  no  longer. 
It  will  make  my  sweet  mother  happy  before  she  goes  to  see 
me  marry  Clyde  and  become  permanently  settled.  It  will 
save  Claremont  perhaps  from  strangers,  and  will  require  no 
sacrifice  on  my  part.  What  little  tenderness  is  left  in  my 
nature  I  consecrate  to  that  brave,  generous  brother-husband, 
who  will  claim  me.  I  will  try  very  hard  to  make  him 
happy  ;  with  your  help  I  think  I  shall  succeed.  But,  Jennie 
dear,  I  always  believed  Clyde  loved  you,  and  sometimes 
have  hoped  you  cared  for  him,  until  recently  you  have 
treated  him  so  capriciously  and  coldly.  Now  do  not  curl 
your  lip  in  that  fashion,  Jennie,  and  look  at  me  so  defiantly, 


144  TUE  MONT  AN  AS. 

I  am  not  going  to  censure  you.  I  should  not  do  so  even  if 
I  felt  I  had  the  right.  I  meant  no  reproach  that  it  is  not 
so.  These  things  are  beyond  the  range  of  finite  will ;  we 
have  no  power  over  them  whatever." 

All  along  I  had  found  myself  hoping  that  Stanley  would 
not  marry  Clyde;  now  I  sat  quite  still  while  she  told  me 
these  things ;  my  bright,  bright  dream  was  ended — passed 
away  utterly  as  though  it  had  never  been.  Oh,  why  could 
I  not  speak  out  and  tell  her  all  I  felt,  and  all  that  I  should 
suflfer  in  such  an  event !  No  no,  it  were  best  not ;  Clyde 
loved  her  with  more  than  a  brother's  devotion  ;  she  might 
in  time  learn  to  love  him  well.  I  at  least  would  not  deprive 
her  of  his  strong,  true  arm,  or  grieve  her  with  the  story  of 
an  unloved,  bleeding  heart.  Perhaps  I  should  conquer  it. 
My  triumph  would  be  one  among  the  silent  victories 
unwritten  upon  any  record  of  earth.  But  oh,  when  tablets 
of  the  Infinite  shall  be  brought  into  view,  then  will  every 
leaf  upon  which  the  sacrifice  that  cost  us  most  be  unfolded. 
I  should  accept  patiently  my  doom  of  loneliness ;  not  even 
to  my  sister-friend  would  I  tell  what  was  in  my  thought 
then.  Farewell  bright  dream,  thou  hadst  been  set  among 
*'  stars  that  shine  and  fall,"  withered  now  like  the  smallest 
"  flowers  that  drooped  in  springing."  Again  farewell,  for 
all  of  earth  and  mortal  time  !  As  I  speak  the  words,  I  hear 
their  dim  echoes  resounding  through  all  thy  vLstas,  hollow, 
soulless  world,  and  pealing  through  dim,  unlighted  vaults 
of  the  Eternal. 

I  thought  of  my  golden  river  flowing  only  in  the  past, 
and  the  solitary  ship  out  upon  a  broad,  deep  sea ;  but  now, 
the  bark  was  not  Stanley's  ;  another  heart  and  life  were  in 
it,  yet  it  drifted  on  and  on,  never  resting,  no  anchor  cast,  no 
beacon  burning  on  the  further  shore.  Oh,  that  the  winds 
which  drove  the  tides  should  be  gathered  together  for  a 


THE  MONT  AN  AS.  145 

little  season  of  respite,  in  the  hollow  of  one  mighty  hand,  the 
same  Father  hand  which  held  the  threads  in  the  compli- 
cated web  that  in  one  short  year  had  been  woven  about  us 
all  so  strangely. 

Stanley  came  to  me  on  the  following  morning,  saying  she 
had  just  heard  from  Raymond.  He  had  entered  the  house 
of  Mr.  Kingswell  as  book-keeper,  and  designed  remaining  in 
Wa3'bum.  He  would  be  married  in  a  few  weeks,  and  wished 
us  to  come  on  immediately. 

"  He  will  take  no  refusal,  Jennie,"  she  added ;  "  you  must 
go.  /  cannot  go  there  I  Anywhere  else.  I  shall  not  see 
Ray  married,  though  I  would  love  to  do  so." 

"  I  think  he  cannot  reasonably  expect  either  of  us.  Aunt 
Edith  is  so  ill,  and "     She  interrupted  me. 

"  Mamma  is  no  worse  than  she  has  been  for  months,  Jen- 
nie. Miss  Phoebe  is  with  her  night  and  day ;  Hawsey  too 
is  there ;  what  can  be  done  will  be  done  without  your 
assistance  ;  that  is  why  I  ask  you  to  go ;  some  of  us  must ; 
I  cannot." 

After  all,  thought  I,  it  would  be  a  change  ;  that  was  what 
I  most  needed ;  my  streng-th  was  fast  giving  way.  At 
times  my  resolution  almost  failed  me  ;  I  should  go  because 
it  would  be  very  hard  if  no  one  from  Claremont  should 
witness  the  marriage  of  our  only  brother  and  son. 

I  went  quietly  from  room  to  room  assisting  and  directing 
Hawsey,  who  was  making  necessary  preparations  for  my 
departure.  The  mother's  sad  eyes  followed  me ;  there  was 
a  wistful  tenderness  in  their  depths.  I  knew  she  was  think- 
ing she  might  never  see  Raymond's  bride  ;  yet  she  possessed 
a  strange  unaccountable  conviction  that  her  boy  had  chosen 
wisely  and  would  be  happy.  She  had  known  the  father  of 
Mary  Kingswell.  Miss  Phcebe's  burnished  needles  ap- 
peared likewise  to  have  caught  something  of  inspiration 

7 


146  THE  MONTANAS. 

from  the  prospects  of  our  eldest  born,  manifest  in  their  acce- 
lerated motion. 

Just  one  year  from  the  time  we  first  left  Claremont — 
with  its  peaceful  groves  and  broad  expanses  of  sky  and  sea 
stretching  far  away — we  took  passage  on  a  boat  for  Louis- 
ville, en  route  for  Wayburn.  We  found  things  much  as 
usual.  Uncle  Montana  and  myself,  when  we  arrived.  There 
was  the  same  brisk  atmosphere,  the  same  white  spires  and 
New  Hampshire  hillsides — the  same  neat  pavement  lead- 
ing up  to  the  gTcat  square  house,  with  its  terraced  grounds 
and  ivy-wreathed  columns ;  the  Ridgely  flowers  and  sun- 
shine too  were  there  as  I  remembered  them ;  the  family 
group  and  the  home-lights  beaming.  When  we  came  into 
their  brightness,  I  felt  the  old  choking  anguish  giving  way 
and  ray  heart  gi'owing  joyous  with  its  influence. 

Uncle  Montana  was  formally  introduced  to  Raymond's 
biide  elect.  It  was  wonderful  to  witness  the  magic  efi"ect 
which  Mar}''s  simple  beauty  produced  upon  this  staid,  seri- 
ous man  of  business  ;  it  was,  as  he  himself  expressed  it,  with 
a  flash  of  the  old  gallantry  which  reminded  me  how  I  had 
seen  my  father  kiss  the  hand  of  my  sainted  mother  many  a 
time ;  it  was  the  very  beauty  of  gentleness,  goodness,  and 
purity.  We  passed  systematically  as  possible  through  the 
necessary  greetings.  Mary  claimed  uncle's  attention  for  a 
time  ;  when  I  had  submitted  to  being  vigorously  hugged  by 
that  amiable  bear  Raymond,  I  ran  off"  to  find  Mr.  Kings- 
well.  Oh  I  how  I  loved  him  !  There  was  that  in  my  soul 
which  bowed  in  reverence  at  the  shrine  of  his  integrity,  so 
lofty  yet  so  blended  with  humanity  that  even  the  lowliest 
miffht  have  envied  him  the  attribute. 

"  So  you  are  come,  Aljean  ;  we  are  delighted  to  welcome 
you  back ;  Ridgely  sadly  missed  your  presence  when  you 
left  us,  though  we  never  forgot  you  in  our  morning  or 


THE  MONTANAS.  1-17 

evening  prayer-time ;  when  the  sun  was  melting  into  sha- 
dow, and  mists  gathering  about  the  far  hills  you  loved  so 
well.      Why  did  not  Stanley  come  ? " 

He  looked  pained  and  grieved  at  iny  answer,  so  I  wound 
my  arms  around  his  neck  and  laid  my  head  against  the  noble 
heart  that  had  a  kindly  sympathetic  throb  for  all  humanity. 
Mrs.  Kingswell,  having  disposed  of  uncle  to  their  mutual 
satisfaction,  left  him  to  the  enjoyment  of  bath  and  siesta, 
and  came  to  join  us.  I  said,  as  we  took  her  into  the  circle 
of  our  clasped  arms : 

"It  is  strange  you  find  in  your  life  a  space  that  can  be 
filled  by  any  of  us  who  are  so  unworthy,  when  you  have 
her,  so  patient  and  so  good,  with  yoa  always." 

He  answered  me,  his  eyes  beaming  with  all  that  he  felt 
for  this  good  true  wife  : 

"  She  is  my  gift  from  God,  for  which  I  daily,  hourly 
thank  him.  I  undertake  no  work  but  she  is  by  my  side  to 
do  and  bear  her  part ;  there  is  no  task  too  difficult  for  / 

those  hands  of  hers  to  assume — no  burden  of  mine  too 
heavy  for  her  heart ;  and  we  have  sought  to  teach  our  child, 
our  Mary,  who  will  leave  us  soon,  that  the  end  of  life  is  not 
here ;  that  this  is  only  a  season  of  daily  tasks ;  the  circle 
must  be  travelled — a  circle  that  terminates  in  another 
laro;er  circle  which  holds  other  duties  and  other  worlds  in 
its  grand  compass ;  and  so  the  work  of  life  must  go  on ;  the 
strong  must  help  the  weak ;  those  who  do  most  are  those 
to  whom  the  power  so  to  do  has  been  given.  But  of  Stan- 
ley, why  did  she  not  come  with  you,  Aljean?"  He  asked 
me  frankly,  and  I  answered  him  in  the  same  spirit. 

"  Aunt  Edith  was  not  well ;  in  truth  she  is  very  poorly, 
and  then  Stanley  has  had  a  hard  trial  recently.  Cousin 
Warren,  you  know" — I  could  not  say  deceived  her ;  I  could 
not  feel  it  thus,  with  all  the  evidence  against  him. 


148  THE  MONTAXAS. 

"Ah  !  yes^  I  understand ;  his  marriage  was  purely  a  mer- 
cenary affair;  I  cannot  tell  what  else  could  have  influenced 
Hayne  to  sacrifice  his  happiness  to  this  base  end ;  though 
he  told  me  once,  Stanley  had  trifled  with  him !  Averred 
that  he  only  made  the  charge  in  justification  of  his  appa- 
rently capricious  conduct,  which  nothing  could  explain  so 
well  as  her  own  written  words.  I  thought  he  misjudged  her, 
though  he  half  succeeded  in  making  the  impression  that  he 
had  been  injured :  whether  he  was  suffering  from  pique 
that  his  truant  game  at  hearts- for  once  had  failed — he  had 
lost  and  she  had  won,  though  he  held  the  stakes." 

"  Warren  deceived  you !  "  I  answered,  vehemently ;  "  I 
should  like  to  tell  him  so  ;  she  it  was  who  staked  all,  and 
lost ;  though,  if  I  meet  him,  I  will  play  the  game  to  its 
close.  lie  is  conscious  of  having  won  that  child's  heart, 
and  trampled  its  holiest  feelings  into  the  dust ;  but  no  one 
shall  know  this.  Stanley  will  marry  Clyde  Ingram  !  And 
thus  securely  pin  before  the  eyes  of  a  discerning  world  the 
veil  that  he  has  dropped  there  in  his  wilful  pleasure." 

Mrs.  Kingswell  put  up  her  hand  with  a  quick  gesture,  as 
if  to  ward  off  an  impending  blow.  I  saw  I  had  surprised 
and  wounded  them  both,  though  I  had  only  spoken  truth. 
With-out  knowing  just  how  to  make  amends,  I  withdrew 
from  their  kind  clasp,  and  went  out  to  seek  Mary  and  Ray- 
mond. I  found  them  sittino^  under  the  shadow  of  a  dark 
fir,  he  twisting  a  cluster  of  wegelia  into  her  brown  hair.  I 
kissed  my  finger-tips  and  passed  them  by,  for  I  was  think- 
inor  how  treacherous  hands  had  woven  orangre  blossoms  for 
Stanley's  wealth  of  golden  hair,  and  set  them  adrift ;  and 
how  they  withered  where  the  fountain  dropped  its  liquid 
spray — murmuring  ever ;  and  the  great  universe  whirled 
its  round  as  though  they  yet  were  fragrant,  and  her  white 
brow  wore  not  a  crown  of  thorns  instead. 


THE  MONTANAS.  149 

Uncle  Montana  saw  me  from  Lis  window,  and  came  forth 
refreshed  to  join  me,  offering  his  arm,  which  I  accepted. 

"It  is  dehghtful,  here,"  he  remarked;  "seeing  those 
happy  children,  Jennie,  reminds  me  of  the  time  when 
your  father  and  mother  were  married."  I  led  him  gently 
along  the  hillside-path  to  the  cemetery,  till  we  came  and 
stood  by  the  graves  of  long  ago.  There  were  two  grey 
stones — lichen-crusted  and  bowing — bearino;  each  the  name 
of  Montana.  At  the  feet  of  these,  a  plain,  white  marble- 
slab  was  erected  more  recently.  We  stood  silently  beneath  a 
gilead  tree,  while  the  long  grass  whispered  how  peaceful  had 
been  their  sleep ;  then  he  spoke  so  sorrowfully,  his  words 
cutting  through  my  heart  like  a  knife : 

"  I  would  give  anything  I  possess,  Jennie,  if  I  had  not 
suffered  myself  to  lose  sight  of  my  brother  and  his  young 
bride.  I  never  saw  them  after  I  left  home,  first.  It  *s  the 
way  of  the  world  to  grow  so  busy,  we  forget  or  eschew  our 
heart  duties ;  one  by  one  we  allow  our  old  associates  to 
drop  from  the  circle  we  run — too  much  preoccupied,  or  too 
careless  to  retain  them,  until  at  my  time  of  life,  when  we 
have  come  to  a  smooth  place  in  the  journey,  and  have  leisure 
to  look  about  us — we  discover  ourselves  standino;  almost 
entirely  alone,  as  when  we  first  began  the  march.  Then  we 
miss  what  we  have  recklessly  cast  aside — what  has  drifted 
from  us  as  the  hurrying  tide  swept  by.  Oh  !  this  constant 
struggle  for  wealth  is  a  cruel  thing ;  it  rifles  life  of  so  much  ; 
even  home-ties  grow  irksome  amid  its  feverish  toils." 

"  I  presume,  uncle,  that  no  human  being  goes  through 
life  without  some  regTets  clinging  to  him — sorrow  for  the 
lost,  the  treasured  things-  he  would  have  liked  to  keep. 
But  you  have  been  so  kind  to  me,  so  considerate  in  supply- 
ing every  want  of  my  father's  orphan  child — you  have  spared 
no  pains  to  make  those  you  love  comfortable  and  happy." 


1 5  0  THE  MOXTANA S. 

"  And  yet,  outside  of  my  own  household,  I  have  none  to 
love  me;  I  have  done  no  deed  of  kindness  to  suflfering  hu- 
manity— thus  writing  my  name  upon  hearts  in  which  the 
hard  strife  with  life  would,  at  least,  have  left  room  for  gra- 
titude. I  have  toiled ;  but,  oh  !  how  selfishly.  What  I  see 
and  know  of  this  man  has  put  my  poor  abortive  schemes, 
to  sorry  shame !  I  look  back  upon  my  life  to  the  structure 
I  have  erected;  it  was  the  work  of  years,  yet  it  totters 
now  upon  the  verge  of  ruin — will  soon  be  broken  into  frag- 
ments— leaving  me  in  return  only  the  crushing  burden  of  a 
miserable  failure.  Ah !  better  that  quiet,  unhonored  sleep, 
than  all  this  strife  and  tumult  through  years,  to  so  little 
purpose." 

"  Uncle,  your  words  stiike  a  tender  string  very  keenly  ; 
they  grieve  me ;  we  never  become  acquainted  with  life,  at 
least  ^ith  its  joys,  until  they  are  ready  to  leave  us.  The 
bubble  has  burst,  and  we  relapse  into  ages  of  silence  again." 

''  Even  you,  Jennie,  and  my  own  children,  seem  to  fear  me 
sometimes,"  continued  my  uncle,  speaking  as  though  my 
words  had  left  no  trace  upon  the  thoughts  which  welled  up 
within  him.  "I  saw  you  embrace  Mr.  Kingswell  as  you 
never  embraced  me ;  is  it  that  you  love  me  less  than  this 
stranger,  my  child  ? "  My  arms  were  around  his  neck  in 
an  instant !  At  last  I  knew  my  uncle  ;  the  crusty  covering 
had  fallen  off  and  his  heart  lay  bare  to  my  view  ;  just  as  he 
himself  had  found  it,  after  ha^dng  stilled  its  longings,  put 
aside  its  requisitions  for  years.  As  you  will  find  yours, 
man  of  business,  some  sudden  day  ;  the  little  frail  thinor 
will  ultimately  grow  too  strong  for  you — it  will  rebound 
from  the  hard  heel  of  your  world  service.  It  is  God's 
voice  speaking,  and  will  be  heard !  The  divine  voice  of 
love  which  is  eternal. 

"  It  is  because  Mr.  Kingswell  loves  to  have  us  caress  him ; 


THE  MONTANAS.  151 

lie  is  never  too  busy  for  this  process ;  thougli  we  love  you, 
my  dear  uncle,  just  as  dearly  as  if  vs^e  had  taken  the  liberty 
of  manifestino-  that  love." 

o 

''  I  see  it  all.  I  have  made  a  cruel  mistake  ;  but  it  will 
be  so  no  more ;  by  these  graves,  I  make  a  resolution  to 
have  it  otherwise." 

Mr.  Ivingswell  summoned  us  to  tea.  When  we  came 
up  the  walk  Ray  and  Mary  joined  us.  It  was  a  pleasant 
gathering  round  the  cheerful  board  that  evening,  barring  the 
shade  on  Mrs.  Kingswell's  brow,  caused  by  what  I  had  told 
her  concerning  Stanley's  intention  to  marry  Clyde.  Tliey 
loved  their  adopted  nephew,  and  the  prospect  of  an  unloving 
wife  for  him  was  like  gall  to  their  spirits. 

After  tea  we  took  our  places  on  the  piazza,  as  we  were 
wont  to  do  in  the  previous  summer,  talking  of  many  things ; 
while  the  moon  rose  up,  wrapping  its  silvery  tissues  around 
the  form  of  her  who ,  on  the  morrow  would  be  a  bride,  as 
she  walked  the  terrace  with  Raymond  at  her  side.  I  thought 
of  another  bride  in  her  stately  home,  wondering  if  her  younir 
husband  was  as  happy  as  we  hoped  Ray  would  be.  Then 
again  I  thought  of  the  fair,  childish  head,  with  its  sleepless 
eyes  watching  the  silver  track  of  moonlight  as  it  rested  on  a 
lonely  pillow.  I  knew  she  was  musing  of  us.  Oh !  why 
were  some  wreaths  made  to  be  blighted  ?  and  some  blos- 
somed into  life,  never  displaced  or  withered  ?  Last  of  all  I 
thought  of  another,  whose  dai'k  eyes  seemed  alwavs  seekino- 
something  through  mist  and  space,  thinking — thinking — 
Ah !  nobody  knew,  for  he  never  told  us ;  a  cruel  silence 
sat  evermore  upon  his  lips.  A  chain  of  silence  linking  two 
lives,  yet  a  barrier  driving  them  apart. 


152  THE  MONT  ANAS. 


CHAPTER  X. 

"  But  happy  they — the  happiest  of  their  kind, 
"Whom  gentle  stars  unite,  and  in  one  fate 
Their  hearts,  their  fortunes,  and  their  beings  blend." 

Even  an  event,  great,  solemn,  and  mysterious  almost  as 
death,  could  not  break  the  routine  of  duty  and  hahit  in  this 
orderly  household.  Save  a  few  extra  preparations  in  the 
culinary  department,  and  a  few  extra  flowers  in  the  several 
vases,  the  travelling  trunk  packed  and  strapped  standing  on 
the  piazza,  there  was  little  change  apparent ;  one  might 
have  thought  it  an  everyday  occurrence  to  have  a  bride 
leave  home. 

It  was  wonderful  to  see  how  the  gentle  mother  bore  up 
and  spoke  cheering  words  to  Mary,  who  more  than  once 
broke  dowai  in  the  perfonnance  of  some  little  duty  for  the 
household,  or  as  fresh  tokens  of  her  parent's  kindness  came 
to  her.  To  those  who  weigh  and  estimate  it  as  they  should, 
marriage  is  scarcely  less  solemn  than  death ;  it  is  putting 
off  life,  with  its  accustomed  forms  and  usages,  for  the 
assumption  of  new  duties ;  an  exchange  of  the  certain  for 
the  uncertain,  parting  with  idols  of  childhood  for  a  promise 
of  love  and  care  that  are  richer,  more  treasured. 

It  was  not  for  long,  however,  that  the  faintest  misgiving 
clouded  the  sweet  face  of  Mary ;  when  Ray,  bright  and 
handsome  and  cheerful,  came  down,  the  mists  all  cleared 
away ;  she  ever  had  for  him  a  greeting  full  of  trustful 
affection.  Once,  I  remember,  as  we  threaded  the  terrace 
walks,  he  stooped  to  touch  a  sensitive-plant,  saying  to  her 
mother  as  he  did  so — "  This  is  like  Mary." 

"  I  am  almost  broken-hearted  when  I  think  that  Ridgley 
will  be  her  home  no  more,"  the  mother  said,  with  quivering 
lip ;  "  when  next  she  comes  here  it  will  be  as  a  visitor." 


THE  MONTANAS.  153 

It  was  hard ;  many  a  mother's  heart  has  known  a  similar 
trial ;  the  sun-beam  that  so  brightened  home  scenes  ;  the 
flower  whose  fragrance  was  emitted  with  every  dawn  till 
close  of  day,  gone  to  lend  their  sweetness  to  another  love- 
liest. In  the  old  home  there  is  only  a  vacant  chamber ; 
footprints  lingering  in  the  accustomed  ways,  marked  less  and 
less  frequently  by  the  little  feet  the  mother  has  so  tended 
in  childhood,  the  presence  fading  from  her  view ;  the  chair 
of  age  untended — this  is  what  marriage  is.  Duties  multi- 
ply in  the  new  sphere  of  action,  and  the  young  bride  will 
learn  gradually  to  do  without  those  whose  care  was  once 
her  greatest  happiness. 

Raymond  and  ^lary  were  to  live  at  Wayburn ;  thus  to 
parents  and  child  there  came  no  pain  of  prolonged  separa- 
tion. Very  brio-ht  and  beautiful  was  the  weddino^-dav. 
I  was  amused,  when,  in  answer  to  the  customary  question 
of  the  minister,  "  Do  you  take  this  woman?"  (fcc,  Ray's 
clear,  "  I  do,"  was  articulated  with  such  firm  heartiness.  I 
observed  the  smile  go  round  ;  though  it  faded  silently  from 
lips  that  trembled  slightly  when  they  saw  the  father  come 
to  kiss  his  child.  He  could  not  speak  the  words  he  had 
meant  to,  only  pressed  her  to  his  heart  and  left  the  room, 
weeping.  Oh  !  what  a  brave,  loving  Keart,  was  his ;  and 
how  tenderly  it  had  held  and  sheltered  her  in  its  depths  for 
eighteen  years.  Mary  had  been  a  good  gii-l,  always  dutiful ; 
and  the  feeling  between  them  appeared  almost  lover-like  in 
its  delicate  manifestations  of  fondness  for  each  other. 

The  mother  never  once  lost  her  self-possession  during  the 
ordeal ;  yet  in  the  silence  of  her  ovm  apartment,  when  the 
guests  were  departed,  and  we  far  on  our  way  to  a  distant 
city,  I  thought  of  her,  knowing  that  she  was  weeping  and 
praying  for  her  child. 

Uncle  Montana,  being  in  haste  to  return  to  Claremont, 

7* 


154  THE  MONTANAS. 

left  us  at  New  York.  I  remained  to  see  the  vounir  l»us- 
band  and  wife  safely  ensconced  within  their  new  home. 
We  spent  several  weeks  delightfully  at  the  Metropolitan. 
Among  numerous  cards  of  invitation  came  one  from  War- 
ren Hayne,  which  we  neither  acknowledged  nor  accepted. 
They  seemed  to  anticipate  such  a  reception  of  their  cour- 
tesy, for,  Avaiving  ceremony,  they  called  at  our  hotel.  Ray- 
mond, his  wife,  and  myself,  were  in  our  private  parlor  when 
our  unwelcome  visitors  sent  up  their  cards.  We  consulted 
about  the  matter,  deciding  that  it  was  best,  for  Stanley's 
sake,  to  exhibit  no  pique  in  consideration  of  his  treatment 
of  her ;  therefore,  the  servant  received  instructions  to  show 
them  up  :  accordingly  they  came. 

Mrs.  Hayne,  with  her  blonde  hair,  blonde  face,  blonde 
eyes,  and  bland,  insinuating  manner,  bestowed  much  con- 
descending courtesy  upon  his  beautiful  bride,  though  she 
greeted  Raymond  with  haughty  formality.  I,  in  my  dress- 
ing-room adjoining,  heard  Warren's  full,  rich  tones,  in  con- 
versation ;  they  always  thrilled  me  strangely,  despite  my 
better  judgment.  Now  he  inquired  in  accents  of  well 
affected  indifference  for  the  family  at  Claremont ;  he  was 
not  aware,  it  was  evident,  that  Stanley  had  remained  at 
home  ;  for  when  I  appeared,  in  answer  to  his  wife's  express- 
ed wish  to  see  also  the  young  ladies — the  Misses  Montana — I 
observed  that  her  dutiful  husband  kept  strict  surveillance 
over  the  door  through  which  I  emerged,  doubtless  expect- 
ing her  to  appear. 

"  She  did  not  come,"  I  remarked,  maliciously,  in  response 
to  his  frequent  glance,  my  lips  writhing  half  in  amusement, 
half  in  scorn.  For  answer,  he  fixed  upon  me  his  large, 
brown,  eyes,  in  such  reproachful  sternness,  I  absolutely 
quailed  beneath  their  searching  pride.  Why  did  this  man's 
spirit  thus  ever  vaunt  its  power  over  me  ?     When  I  raised 


THE  MONTANAS.  155 

my  eyes,  there  was  sometliing  in  his  face  of  agony  endured, 
and  a  look  that  seemed  to  say  through  mine  he  would  read 
her  soul,  and  know  why  matters  were  as  they  were. 

Singular ;  for  months  previous  to  this  anticipated  meet- 
ing with  Warren  Hayne,  I  had  arranged  and  rehearsed  the 
amiable  speeches  with  which  I  meant  to  lacerate  his  feel- 
ings. Now,  why  died  the  words  unspoken  on  my  lips  ? 
It  was  because  in  his  one  stern  glance,  I  read  a  story  of 
strife  and  victory,  a  spirit  loftily  poised,  resting  from  the 
untold  struggle.  He  rose  naturally  and  offered  me  his  arm  ; 
I  accepted  it  mechanically :  and  again  I  found  myself 
walking  with  my  cousin  the  long  corridor,  my  hand  held 
fast  as  he  was  used  to  hold  it,  in  other  days  scarce  one 
year  past.  I  wondered  why  he  asked  me  no  questions  con- 
cerning Stanley ;  but  he  only  talked  in  his  usual  courteous 
manner  of  things  that  were  and  things  that  had  been; 
never  once  touching  upon  what  was  in  my  mind  a  constant 
thought.  I  did  fiot  then  know  man-nature  as  I  have 
learned  it  since,  or  I  should  have  accepted  this  avoidance 
of  facts  as  the  strongest  possible  evidence  that  he,  too,  was 
thinking  of  her,  and  the  other  time — gone  ;  in  affaires  de 
C(xurj  the  thing  of  which  men  think  most  they  speak  least. 
Other  motives  may  have  mfluenced  his  silence  on  this 
special  topic. 

He  told  me  it  was  his  earnest  vdsh  to  have  the  pleasure 
of  our  exclusive  entertainment  for  one  evening  at  least, 
during  our  stay  in  the  great  metropolis.  He  would  arrange 
it  so  that  the  entertainment  should  not  interfere  in  the 
slightest  with  our  previous  engagements.  He  had  pre- 
viously spoken  to  Raymond  and  Mary,  who  submitted  the 
matter  to  me.  There  was  nothing  left  for  me  but  an  un- 
conditional assent,  which  I  gave. 

We  returned  to  the  parlor.     I  sank  upon  a  sofa  in  a 


156  TEE  MONTANAS. 

maze  of  strange  reflections ;  I  could  scarcely  realize  the 
occurrences  of  that  afternoon,  even  when  I  saw  cousin 
Warren  standing  at  a  distant  window,  one  hand  resting  care- 
lessly on  Raymond's  shoulder,  while  with  the  other  he  held 
that  of  the  young  bride,  to  whom  he  talked  gaily.  I  saw  his 
well  formed  Grecian  lips  relaxing  into  smiles ;  I  heard  his 
deep  familiar  accents,  but  I  could  not  distinguish  the  words 
he  uttered,  for  my  golden  river  again  was  flowing — flowing 
somewhere.  I  sat  listening  to  the  liquid  music  of  its 
TN-aves — perhaps  the  sound  came  up  from  the  past,  during 
this  little  ebb  of  time — I  know  not.  I  was  unconscious  of 
all  things,  save  that  I  was  dreaming  impossible  dreams — 
impossible  of  realization  in  this  world,  for  their  season  had 
gone  by. 

Cousin  Warren  said,  in  his  blandest,  most  insinuating 
tones,  preparatory  to  their  leave-taking : 

"  We  have  set  Thursday  evening  for  our  party,  Jennie ; 
you  will  come — come  early."  We  promised;  at  the  ap- 
pointed time  we  went. 

Once  in  that  stately  home,  with  its  lights  and  music  and 
summer  flowers,  I  could  dimly  realize  the  temptation  which 
had  beset  Warren  to  secure  Miss  Strawbridge's  fortune — 
with  herself  of  course — after  his  accidental  discovery  that 
Claremont  was  a  possession  of  Clyde  Ingram's.  Everything 
was  in  magnificent  keeping ;  grandeur  was  apparent  in  the 
minutest  details ;  every  arrangement  was  perfect,  from  the 
eleo-ant  dressing-room,  into  which  we  were  conducted  by  a 
neatly  attired  maid  who  gave  the  finishing  touch  to  our 
elaborate  toilets,  to  the  supper-room  in  w^hich  was  sensed  a 
repast  fitting  for  the  most  fastidious  palate.  Warren  did 
the  honors  with  his  accustomed  ease  of  manner,  while  Mrs. 
Hayne  presided  chosen  goddess  of  the  coflee-urn,  in  a  man- 
ner which  so  entirely  won  my  heart,  I  almost  forgave  her 


THE  MONTANAS.  157 

for  having  a  blue  ribbon  twisted  with  ber  blonde  hair, 
after  the  fashion  in  which  Stanley  was  accustomed  to  weave 
it  with  those  golden  curls  of  hers.  The  wine  was  so  fra- 
grant we  imagined  it  must  have  been  distilled  from  roses. 
I  think  if  I  had  not  been  fortified  with  a  second  glass  of 
deUcious  Rhine,  I  should  never  have  found  courage  to  speak 
to  Cousin  Warren  as  I  did  that  night. 

We  had  returned  to  the  drawing-room ;  guest  after  guest 
came  pouring  in — the  tinted  waves  of  fashion.  I  had 
passed  through  an  ordeal  of  such  frequent  introduction  to 
people  for  whom  I  cared  not  a  farthing — whom  perhaps  I 
should  never  meet  again — I  was  very  weary ;  some  way, 
the  gay  voices  and  sounds  oppressed  me.  I  was  stealing 
off  to  the  dressing-room — skipping  lightly  up  the  stairs  to 
the  music  of  a  well  timed  varsovienne,  when  Cousin  Warren 
called  out :  "  Come  back,  truant !  "  at  the  same  time,  circling 
my  waist  with  his  coat  sleeve,  he  drew  me  forcibly  into  the 
dancing  apartment.  Notwithstanding  my  protestations,  he 
led  me  to  a  position.  It  was  during  one  of  the  pauses  in 
the  figure  that  he  remarked,  somewhat  sadly :  "  Although 
they  were  accustomed  to  have  dancing  parties  every  week, 
he  had  not  danced  once  since  we  were  at  Nahant  the  pre- 
vious summer."  I  waited  to  give  him  the  opportunity  to 
speak  again  before  I  said  my  say ;  but  he  did  not. 

"  Ah !  what  a  delightful  season  we  had  there !  our 
promenades  on  those  long,  cool  verandas  overlooking  the 
sea,  all-mighty  and  vast,  with  the  sweet  moon  shining  on 
its  troubled  waves." 

He  changed  his  position  slightly,  put  his  hand  into  the 
breast  of  his  coat ;  I  felt  his  fingers  tremble  slightly  against 
my  own,  which  rested  in  the  circle  of  his  left  arm ;  but  ho 
did  not  look  at  me  as  I  went  talking  on : 

"  Cousin  Warren,  there  is  a  picture  in  my  heart  to-night ; 


158  THE  MONTANAS. 

two  figures  standing  on  that  long  piazza  overlooking  tlie 
sea — the  moonlight  blends  their  shadows  in  its  silver  fall 
One  had  played  a  part  until  his  heart  and  soul  were  sick; 
I  see  him  take  the  hands  of  that  beautiful  girl  in  his  own, 
exclaiming :  '  'tis  time  this  mockery  should  cease.'  Trust- 
ing, she  gave  him  her  heart;  but  the  mockery  was  only 
then  begun.  The  picture  fades  as  it  has  done  before ; 
other  figures  come  between ;  in  difierent  lands,  upon  sepa- 
rate stages,  I  have  seen  each  play  a  part  since  then.  They 
do  well.  This  last  scene  in  the  melodrama  is  rendered 
with  special  effect;  I  am  enjoying  it  immensely.  Ah!  the 
false  has  mocked  the  true,  stealing  its  semblance  the  long 
way  through — wearing  its  regal  hue ;  she  has  spoken,  yet 
no  word  from  you." 

His  face  was  very  pale,  and  the  lines  about  his  handsome 
lips  were  drawn  tightly.  It  seemed  impossible  for  Warren, 
usually  so  easy  of  speech,  to  S3'llable  one  word  of  the  many 
that  were  craving  utterance  from  his  "heart  of  hearts." 
At  length  he  said,  hoarsely :  "  You  are  right !  the  mockery 
was  only  then  begun ;  now  it  must  go  on ;  I  presume  it 
will  last  as  long  as  life ;  she  has  willed  it,  so  let  it  be.  How 
is  she,  and  why  did  she  not  come  ?  The  sight  of  her  could 
not  unman  me  now ;  I  have  lost  the  hope  of  that  time. 
This  later  phase  of  hfe  upon  which  you  comment  so^  bitterly 
has  Httle  connexion  with  the  trial  which  preceded  my 
adoption  of  what  doubtless  seems  to  you  a  strange  course. 
Though  through  all  I  am  conscious  of  having  presented  my 
integrity  of  heart."  This  was  said  with  a  proud  loftiness 
which,  under  the  circumstances,  could  scarcely  have  been 
equalled ;  though  his  accustomed  blandness  came  into  the 
tones  in  which  he  added :  "  Will  you  be  kind  enough  to 
answer  my  questions  concerning  Miss  Montana  ? " 

If  I  had  not  believed  he  was  feigning,  I  should  have 


THE  MONTANAS.  159 

driven  the  shaft  less  keenly  than  I  did ;  as  it  wa^I  was 
merciless. 

"  'Tis  easy  to  talk  of  '  integrity  of  heart ! '  Comino- 
from  you,  it  goes  very  far  towards  making  up  the  sum-total 
of  a  lifetime  mockery ;  however,  let  us  speak  of  this  no 
more.  Stanley  is  well  and  looking  charmingly.  She 
would  have  come  North  this  season,  only  we  could  not 
both  leave  Aunt  Edith,  who  is  quite  ill.  I  came  on  with 
uncle ;  Stanley  remained  at  home  with  Miss  Phoebe  and 
Mr.  Ingram  in  charge  of  her  mother."  He  turned  upon 
me,  a  glance  of  angry  inquiry  flashing  in  his  eye ;  I  an- 
swered his  thought  as  upon  the  occasion  of  our  first  meet- 
ing in  New  York.    - 

"  Yes ;  she  will  be  Clyde  Ingram's  bride  this  coming 
autumn."  The  fingers  seemed  clutching  at  something  that 
must  have  pressed  upon  his  heart.  Music  again — brilliant, 
thrilling ;  through  the  mazes  of  the  Lancers  he  passed  as 
though  trampling  some  imaginary  substance  underneath 
his  feet ;  yet  his  manner  was  so  proudly  calm  and  cour- 
teous none  would  have  guessed  how  in  his  heart  there 
was  an  inner  tempest  raging. 

The  quadrille  ended,  Warren  led  me  to  a  seat ;  then,  in 
a  voice  which  betrayed  no  excitement  whatever,  he  spoke 
very  indifferently,  I  thought  heartlessly,  of  the  persons 
about  us.  New  York  as  a  residence,  and  many  other  things 
which  were  far  from  our  thoughts  or  feelings  then,  only  he 
twitched  my  sandalwood  fan  nervously.  I  glanced  at  my 
watch — the  evening  was  well-nigh  spent.  I  went  in  search 
of  Rajmiond,  who  sat  with  his  bride  in  the  drawing-room, 
listening  to  the  recital  of  some  old  Mend  who  sat  in  an 
easy  chair,  his  face  towards  their  sofa,  his  back  towards 
the  door.  Judge  of  my  surprise  on  coming  over  to  them 
at  being  brought  tete-a-tete  with  Mr.  Milverton,  our  mirth- 


160  THE  MONTANAS. 

fill  spirit  of  Nahant,  Stanley's  friend,  our  joint  admirer. 
He  sprang  up  with  sudden  alacrity,  seizing  my  hand,  asked 
a  dozen  questions  in  the  same  breath  concerning  my  health 
and  happiness ;  again  of  Stanley,  whom  he  knew,  and  of 
her  family,  whom  he  did  not,  saving  Raymond,  Clyde,  and 
myself.  Said  he  had  nothing  earthly  to  do,  at  once  pro- 
posed to  accompany  me  home,  a  suggestion  to  which  I 
readily  assented,  though  I  told  him  I  feared  he  would  find 
it  very  dull,  the  family  were  at  Brightland;  I  should  go 
there  on  my  return  ;  his  sojourn  with  us  would  be  quite  a 
contrast  to  his  life  here  in  the  great  caravansary. 

He  answered  me  that  nothing:  would  delicrht  him  more  : 
he  was  tired  of  this  locality,  and  deemed  a  change  of  cli- 
mate, even  at  that  season,  a  saving  ordinance  from  death  of 
ennui, 

"  I  am  sure  I  shall  revive  the  very  instant  I  come  within 
the  sphere  of  Miss  Montana's  presence.  She  has  more 
than  once  saved  me  from  premature  death  by  one  of  those 
dazzling  smiles  of  hers.  You  used  to  feel  the  force  of 
them,  eh,  Hayne  ?  By  St.  Patrick,  I  once  thought  all  the 
powers  of  earth  could  not  have  dispelled  the  illusion  which 
bound  you  a  willing  captive  to  her  side.  How  is  it,  old 
fellow?  Confess  now,  or  I  shall  deem  you  already  in  the 
leading-strings — afraid  to  own  a  former  capture.  How  is 
it,  ha?" 

Warren  had  followed  me  and  taken  his  place  amid  our 
group  in  the  drawing-room.  Thus  appealed  to,  he  as- 
sumed a  tone  of  careless  badinage  in  his  answer. 

"No  one  is  more  willino-  than  I  to  acknowledofe  Miss 
Montana's  superior  fascinations,  though  I  cannot  agree 
with  you  in  pronouncing  her  smiles  a  'saving  ordinance.' 
I  have  reason  to  think  they  are  calculated  to  blight  rather 
than  exalt  mankind.''''     The  blood  rushed  over  my  face  at 


THE  MONT  AN  AS.  161 

the  conclusion  of  his  unjust  speech.  Raymond's  eyes 
flashed  indignant  fire !  A  gentle  hand  was  laid  upon  his 
ai-m — the  defiant  spirit  was  rebuked.  I  should  have  spo- 
ken to  Warren  when  he  offered  me  his  arm  a  moment 
after,  but  in  his  face  there  was  the  same  reproachful  look 
of  fixed  sternness  that  had  hushed  my  clamoring  heart 
more  than  once  before ;  now  his  hand  tightly  clasped  my 
fingers  as  we  promenaded  the  drawing-room.  He  said  at 
length  : 

"  You  think  me  harsh  and  severe,  Jennie ;  I  know  wo- 
men have  an  idea  there  are  some  things  which  men  should 
bear  without  a  sign  or  sigh  of  complaint.  I  have  borne  a 
great  deal,  but  you  have  tried  me  to-night  almost  beyond 
endurance.  You  and  Stanley  play  good  hands  at  your 
double  game  !  She  won  my  love  only  to  cast  it  aside  as  a 
worthless  bauble.  Not  content  with  this,  she  has  com- 
missioned you,  who  are  doubtless  party  to  the  transaction, 
to  probe  the  wound  and  decide  if  it  is  deep  enough  to 
prove  fatal.  Yes,  I  feel  assured  this  has  been  your^chief 
mission  to  New  York.  You  may  say  to  your  fair  instruc- 
tress, it  does  not  abash  me  to  admit  that  the  wound  is  sore 
and  bleeding  still.  I  should  not  hesitate  to  tell  her  this  if 
she  had  come.  The  thing  which  I  most  regret  is  that  I 
did  not  do  so  in  the  beginning.  I  should  have  heard  my 
sentence  from  her  lips  alone  ;  instead,  I  listened  to  the 
voice  of  pride,  donned  this  armor  of  reserve  and  indifference, 
hoping  by  such  means  to  conceal  from  the  world  and  from 
her  what  she  had  made  me  suffer." 

I  opened  my  eyes  wide  with  astonishment !  I  actually 
for  the  moment  thought  Warren  demented  to  talk  as  he 
did  about  the  wounds  that  she  had  made.  Then  I  remem- 
bered how,  in  that  one  letter  to  Stanley,  he  had  accused  her 
of  deceiving  him,  and  of  having  broken  her  plighted  faith. 


162  THE  MOKTAKAS. 

We  had  deemed  his  words  only  a  subterfuge  to  free  him- 
self from  an  engagement  which  proved  less  advantageous 
in  a  worldly  sense  than  it  might  once  have  done.  Again, 
Mr.  Kingswell  had  said  Warren  told  him  Stanley's  written 
words  were  his  proof  of  her  falsity  to  him.  A  suspicion 
of  foul  play  came  over  me  like  a  flash  !  though  I  knew  not 
what  I  should  say  or  do  to  detect  it  without  compromising 
Stanley  by  the  admission  of  her  unchanged  afl'ection  for 
Warren. 

"  Cousin,"  I  said  excitedly,  "  I  am  just  now  too  intent 
on  a  purpose  even  to  resent  your  insinuations  concerning 
Stanley  and  myself — in  league  against  you.  There  must 
be  treachery  somewhere.  I  think  it  will  eventually  be 
explained  to  our  mutual  satisfaction.  To  aid  me  in  ferret- 
ing out  the  apparent  cruel  designs  of  some  person  or  per- 
sons, I  request  you  to  send  back  her  letters  !" 

^''Her  letters?''''  he  answered  half  contemptuously,  pro- 
found surprise  manifest  in  his  tones  and  manner. — "  For 
four  long  months  after  I  left  Claremont  I  heard  no 
word  from  her !  At  length,  in  answer  to  at  least  twenty 
wild  appeals,  there  came  from  her  just  one  curt  brief  mis- 
sive, stating  her  engagement,  requesting  very  coldly  that  I 
should  discontinue  my  portion  of  the  correspondence.  In 
a  fit  of  rage  and  pique  at  her  duplicity,  I  resolved  that  to 
her,  of  all  the  anguish  I  felt,  I  would  make  no  sign.     In 

the  silence  thus  imposed,  I  became ah !  well  you  know 

the  rest.  I  see  by  your  face  you  deemed  her  incapable  of 
this.  Once  I  should  sooner  have  doubted  all  the  world  be- 
side. She  has  since  made  me  a  sceptic  regarding  woman's 
truth.  1  congratulate  Mr.  Ingram  upon  the  success  of  his 
suit ;  he  is  to  be  envied,  is  he  not  ? " 

"  Warren,"   I   exclaimed   with    some    severity,    "  repeat 
your  innuendoes  either  to  Raymond  or  Clyde,  at  fitting  time 


THE  MONT  AN  AS.  163 

and  place.  I  will  assure  you  they  will  be  responded  to  as 
they  deserve  to  be.  I  shall  not  resent  them,  as  I  said 
before,  because  you  have  indeed  been  tried  more  than  I 
had  dreamed  of.  Now  give  me  that  note  of  Stanley's  ;  I 
would  have  the  evidence  of  my  own  eyes  here.  'Tis  not 
that  I  doubt  you,  but  I  have  so  believed  in  her  I  could 
trust  nothing  less  than  this." 

He  rose  and  offered  me  his  arm  with  stately  grace.  I 
believe  Warren  could  have  been  placed  under  no  circum- 
stances so  complicated  or  disagreeable  that  he  could  have 
forgotten  to  deport  himself  with  lofty  elegance ;  though 
now  the  fingers  which  closed  over  mine,  resting  in  the  cir- 
cle of  his  arm,  were  cold  and  rigid.  He  drew  me  into  his 
private  study  adjoining  the  library,  where  he  seated  me  in 
his  large  reading  chair,  during  the  process  of  unlocking  a 
secret  drawer  in  an  escritoire,  from  which  he  took  a  note 
bearing  Stanley's  superscription  and  stamp.  I  knew  her 
letters ;  it  was  easy  to  detect  her  stjle,  which  was  uniform; 
I  imagined  I  could  be  deceived  as  readily  with  regard  to 
my  own.  The  strangest  of  all  was  her  chirography !  I 
could  have  qualified  it  as  hers,  in  a  court  of  justice. 
It  would  have  been  difficult  to  counterfeit  her  peculiar 
hand. 

My  brain  was  reeling  under  the  force  of  this  blow.  I 
was  only  conscious  that  Warren's  eyes  were  upon  me.  I 
rallied,  therefore,  under  his  tones  of  cutting  irony. 

"  I  presume  you  are  satisfied  !  at  least  you  can  doubt 
no  longer  the  authenticity  of  letter  or  date."  A  bitter 
reply  rose  to  my  lips !  I  longed  to  tell  him  that  I  had 
doubts,  but  not  of  her  ;  that  I  should  not  believe  the  whole 
world  if  they  in  one  united  voice  declared  Stanley  false. 
But  no,  it  were  better  not.  I  had  no  right  to  reveal  one 
tithe  of  that  long,  hard  struggle  through  which  she  had 


164  THE  }rONTANAS. 

passed.  Accordingly  I  crushed  back,  in  a  deep,  dark 
comer  of  my  heart,  my  suspicions  and  convictions  con- 
cerning a  part  some  third  party  must  liave  played  in  this 
drama.     I  answered  him  falteringly — 

"  The  evidence  is  certainly  against  her ;  until  I  am  bet- 
ter fortified  with  strength  to  refute  your  charges,  I  shall  not 
attempt  her  defence.  Do  not  think  of  her  too  harshly,  War- 
ren; remember  those  golden  days  at  Claremont ;  I  am  sure 
she  has  not  forgotten  them,  they  were  so  very  bright." 
He  sat  with  his  eyes  fixed  upon  the  superscription  of  her 
note ;  mine  wandered  far  oflT.  Shreds  of  my  golden  river 
came  through  the  fissures  of  craggy  rocks  that  loomed  up, 
almost  shutting  out  the  heavens  from  view.  I  saw  the 
opal  drops  sparkling  crimson,  as  ruby — then  diamond  clear, 
breaking  into  gem-like  beauty  through  the  tissues  of  broken 
dreams.  Warren's  head  rested  on  his  left  hand,  while  his 
right,  within  the  breast  of  his  coat,  seemed  clutching  at 
some  weight  that  was  pressing  on  his  heart. 

We  were  each  awakened  from  our  painful  reverie  by  the 
sound  of  an  unwelcome  voice  which  broke  upon  us  very 
harshly,  with  a  vivacity  that  was  anything  but  pleasing. 
We  raised  our  eyes  to  see — a  blonde  face,  transfixed  in  green- 
hued  wonder  and  indio^nation. 

"  I  am  astonished  to  find  you  here,  Miss  Montana ! 
Your  brother  has  been  seeking  for  you  everywhere  else. 
Mr.  Hayne,  you  must  have  forgotten  your  duty  and  obliga- 
tion as  host  in  my  house.  You  have  chosen  to  absent 
yourself  during  the  entire  evening — almost.  Now  many  of 
our  departing  guests  await  the  opportunity  and  privilege 
•  of  paying  their  respects  to  you.  Will  you  come,  sir,  or 
shall  I  excuse  you  on  the  ground  of  this  monopoly  ? " 

She  said  this  with  a  withering  glance  in  my  direction. 
It  did  not  reach  me,  however ;  I  was  thinking  of  other 


THE  MONTANA S.  165 

things  ttan  ter  reproach,  as  I  recalled  and  reviewed  the 
wide,  wide  space  that  lay  between  those  two — a  difference 
uncancelled  by  pride  of  position  !  a  difference  which  was 
God-created ;  neither  years  nor  fate  could  abridge  it,  even 
though  they  were  husband  and  wife.  He  felt  it,  too,  just 
then,  very  keenly;  I  saw  how  the  knowledge  galled  him; 
I  hoped  he  Avould  not  resent  her  insult  to  me.  I  cared  no- 
thing at  all  about  it — but  he  did. 

"  Perhaps,  madam,  you,  who  in  i/our  own  house  never  \sLck 
courtesy  towards  any  one  of  your  guests — even  those  who  are 
my  relatives — might  as  well  have  extended  your  preroga- 
tive and  denied  your  guests  the  privilege  of  dispensing 
adieus  to  their  nominal  host.  You  can  do  so  still  if  you 
like ;  at  all  events,  suffer  them  to  await  my  pleasure." 
She  rustled  her  indignant  flounces  as  she  left  us.  Warren 
again  gave  me  his  arm.  I  thought,  oh !  for  one  tiny  ray 
of  the  sweet  love  life  he  and  Stanley  had  lived  to  lighten 
the  dark  domestic  atmosphere  within  this  stately  home. 
Oh !  for  just  one  atom  of  pure  gold  amid  all  the  dross  sur- 
rounding my  cousin  !  Where  should  it  be  found  ?  A  voice 
within  answered,  far  down  in  the  deeps  of  that  true,  manly 
heart,  whose  strings  were  held  by  one  little  hand  which  he 
would  never  be  permitted  to  press  or  fondle  again.  How 
trustingly  it  had  once  nestled  within  his  own  !  I  wonder 
if  he  was  not  thinking  of  it  when  those  coarse,  harsh 
tones  broke  upon  his  ear  ?  If  so,  the  recollection  had 
melted  somewhat  the  resentment  within  him ;  for  as  he 
spoke  the  fitting  farewell  to  each  departing  guest,  his  tones 
were  lower,  richer,  and  seemed  far  off,  like  the  sound  of 
my  golden  waves.  When  we  three  took  our  leave,  I  saw 
upon  his  face  the  same  absent  expression,  and  he  pressed 
my  hand  as  though  it  might  have  been  hers.  We  left  him 
standing   silently,  moodily,  on   the   pavement,  within  the 


166  THE  MONTAKAS. 

shadow  of  his  wife's  stately  mansion,  his  form  so  still  in  its 
faultless  outline.  I  was  thinking  of  him  as  we  went  whirl- 
ing through  the  lighted  streets,  until  our  coachman  let  down 
the  carriage  steps  at  the  Metropolitan. 


CHAPTER  XI. 

"The  highest  hills  are  miles  below  the  sky— 
And  so  far  is  the  lightest  heart  below 
True  happiness." 

I  WAS  out  when  Warren  called  on  the  following  morning ; 
in  the  evening  he  came  again,  and  while  I  was  adding  the 
finishing  touch  to  my  toilet,  I  could  hear  him  as  he  walked 
the  long  corridor  below  with  calm,  finn  tread,  just  as  he 
was  wont  to  do  in  the  pleasant  summer  time  gone  by. 
Now  he  was  gayer  than  I  had  seen  him  for  a  long  time. 
There  was  in  his  manner  no  trace  of  the  deep  emotion 
manifest  on  former  occasions.  It  was  only  the  polished 
man  of  the  world  who  greeted  me,  speaking  with  careless 
indifference,  as  though  he  would  ignore  the  fact  that  he  had 
ever  been  other  than  this.  I  was  surprised  and  wounded 
at  his  levity,  and  thus  expressed  myself ;  I  shall  never  for- 
get his  answer : 

"  Fortunately,  or  unfortunately,  as  you  perhaps  esteem 
the  fact,  we  men  have  too  much  to  do  of  life's  busy  work — 
too  constant  a  strife  with  the  world  and  its  strong  necessi- 
ties, to  permit  ourselves  to  grow  habitually  depressed.  In 
the  long,  weary  march  from  cradle  to  grave  there  are  so 
many  customs  that  not  only  wither  the  sweetest  flowers 
but  set  an  iron  heel  upon  any  impulse  of  generous  emotion. 


THE  MONTANAS.  167 

That  stem  dictator,  duty,  would  make  galley  slaves  of  us 
all — even  the  most  determinedly  rebellious ;  reducing  kings 
to  the  condition  of  serfs  and  minions.  A  tiny  hand  holds 
the  feather  that  turns  the  scale  of  destiny  ;  and  from  a  sweet, 
sunlit  way,  where  the  brightest  flowers  lie,  'tis  often  but  one 
step  to  deserts  of  darkness  and  misery.'  We  mourn  the 
departed  glory,  but  soon  learn  to  trim  our  torches  and 
smile  while  we  do  the  work  of  life  in  an  artificial  radiance — 
enduring  calmly,  hopefully,  philosophically,  all  that  we 
must.  We  cannot  always  suffer — the  time  so  to  do  is  not 
given  us.     I  like  Owen  Meredith's  definition  of  life  : 

"  '  Honest  love — honest  sorrow, 
Honest  work  for  the  day, 
Honest  hope  for  the  morrow.' 

"  I  really  like  this  aspect  of  the  thing ;  there  is  a  bravery 
in  it  which  but  few  people  realize.  As  regards  the  sorrow, 
that  is  an  attribute  that  is  real  and  wears  no  false  hue, 
though  as  regards  honest  love — ah  !  there  is  little  of  that  in 
this  weary  world." 

It  almost  broke  my  heart  to  hear  Cousin  Warren  talk  in 
this  strain.  Oh  !  how  I  longed  to  look  him  in  the  eyes — 
to  fix  his  conviction  of  what  I  uttered,  and  tell  him  there 
was  at  least  one  honest  love  in  the  Universe,  stedfast  and 
true  as  the  sun,  and  how  that  loving  one  had  sorrowed  for 
this  broken  troth,  as  even  he  had  not  done — but  I  dared 
not.  Oh,  of  all  the  idle  words  spoken,  if  I  might  have 
claimed  just  one  little  syllable  with  which  to  convey  an 
intelligence  of  these  things,  it  might  have  appeased  the 
anguish  in  my  heart — but  it  must  not  be!  Loving  as 
they  two  did,  each  knowing  that  the  other  loved,  perhaps 
the  frail  barrier  had  melted  away  ;  then  they,  standing  face 
to  face,  man  and  woman,  might  have  spoken  as  they  did  at 


168  THE  MONT  AN  AS. 

Nahant.  Could  they  have  borne  the  heavy  cross  being 
aware  of  this  most  harrowing  truth  ?     I  fear  not. 

As  these  thoughts  flitted  through  my  mind  I  sat  care- 
lessly toying  with  a  little  fillet  of  white  and  blue,  a  purchase 
I  had  made  for  Stanley.  Warren  regarded  me  so  earnestly, 
I  could  not  but  feel  that  his  tone  and  manner  in  the  pre- 
vious conversation  were  assumed. 

"  That  is  hers,"  he  said  at  length.  I  looked  at  him  with 
some  surprise,  answering  in  the  affirmative.  Then  he  went 
on  to  say  : 

"  Tliere  is  a  peculiar  atmosphere  about  everything  that 
pertains  to  her.  Even  the  most  commonplace  articles 
adapt  themselves  to  her  w^earing,  assuming  this  peculiar 
personality  the  moment  they  are  purchased.  I  have  a 
little  gift  here ;  it  is  justly  her  property,  no  one  else  could 
ever  wear  them.  Will  you  give  them,  for  me,  into  her 
charge  ? "  It  was  a  set  of  pearls  :  a  necklace  whose  inter- 
stices seemed  a  glitter  of  frost-work,  l)rooch  and  pendants 
of  rarest  style  and  finish.  I  took  the  shining  bauble  into 
my  hand,  letting  the  string  slip  through  my  fingers  like 
cluster  drops  of  falling  water,  saying  as  I  did  so  : 

"  Warren,  you  very  well  know  that,  even  under  other  cir- 
cumstances, Stanley  would  scarcely  accept  these ;  now,  she 
would  be  very  far  from  doing  so." 

"  I  can  see  the  drift  of  your  fancy,  Jennie,"  he  answered 
quietly,  though  proudly,  in  a  subdued  tone  of  poignant  suf- 
fering. "They  are  not  my  w^ife's,  and  can  never  be  hers; 
they  are  no  part  of  that  contract,  thank  Heaven — they  are 
Stanley's.  All  the  romance  and  brightness  of  my  life  are 
entwined  with  them,  and  they  must  be  hers,  though  she 
has  put  from  her  the  beautiful  dream  and  sweet  thoughts 
that  were  mine,  as  I  worked  for  them.  But  she  cannot  go 
back  into  the  golden  maze  of  the  past,  and  blot  out  the  time 


THE  MONTANA  S.  169 

when  she  herself  gave  me  the  liberty  to  think  these  thoughts 
of  her,  and  to  build  the  hope  of  my  life  upon  them.  Better 
try  to  obliterate  the  suns  that  are  shining  on  our  childhood, 
and  the  stars  in  the  past  whose  radiance  never  pales  in 
growing  spaces  of  after  years." 

"  Warren,  would  you  substitute  these  for  the  wreath  you 
wove  and  left  to  wither  in  her  own  home  ?  They  will  be 
valueless  to  her  now — that  has  faded." 

"  Then  lay  them  at  her  feet  and  let  her  crush  them  as 
she  crushed  the  joy  out  of  my  life  ;  only  bear  them  to  her, 
with  a  request  from  me  that  she  will  wear  them  on  her 
bridal  day.  In  return  I  ask  of  you  that  little  band  of  white 
and  blue.  I  want  it ;  it  will  help  me  to  learn  to  forgive 
her.     I  feel  that  I  have  almost  done  so  already." 

"  Warren,  you  do  right  to  forgive  Stanley.  Try  to  think 
of  her  gently  and  kindly,  for  she  too  has  suffered.  Just 
think  what  a  dreadful  thing  it  is  to  be  suiTounded  by  an 
imnsible  net  of  circumstances  whose  meshes  could  not  be 
broken  ;  it  was  fate  !  Stanley  was  not  to  blame  !  She  will 
live  to  prove  it  to  you." 

"  Jennie,  why  will  you  taunt  me  with  these  things  ?  I 
knew  the  *  circumstances'  which  influenced  her  to  renounce 
me  as  she  did.  I,  though  not  a  poor  man,. was  not  a  mil- 
lionaire !  Clyde  Ingram  was.  Of  course,  I  do  not  blame 
her ;  the  difference  was  vastly  in  his  favor ;  it  is  the  way 
of  the  world.  Jennie,  we  must  all  learn  it  sooner  or  later. 
There  is  no  bitterness  in  my  heart  towards  her  ;  only  a  poig- 
nant sorrow  when  I  recall  all  that  was  and  is  not,  and  all 
that  might  have  been.  But  enough  of  this  ;  it  sounds  too 
much  like  weak  repining  at  a  decree  that  is  inevitable ; 
the  mandate  is  irrevocable,  the  fiat  has  gone  forth.  I  shall 
learn  to  be  happy  in  the  knowledge  that  she  is  blessed. 
And  now  this  is  our  last  conference  on  this  topic.     To  man, 

8 


170  TEE  MONTANA S. 

woman  or  child,  saving  yourself,  I  liave  never  spoken  these 
thoughts ;  and  never  again  will  I  lay  this  portion  of  my 
life  bare  to  any  one.  It  was  too  bright  and  beautiful  for 
the  actual ;  it  has  drifted  into  dream-land,  there  let  it  rest. 
Suffice  it  to  say,  there  is  one  word  which  I  shall  never  take 
upon  my  lips  again — the  word  love.  It  is  among  the  sounds 
that  are  dead !  Shut  in  a  chamber  of  my  heart  that  is 
locked  hard ;  the  key  is  in  your  possession  ;  the  walls  arc 
granite ;  at  the  touch  of  one  little  hand  they  would  crum- 
ble into  dust ;  but  that  touch  will  never  come,  and  I  must 
cease  to  miss  and  mourn  it  now  ;  the  season  has  gone  by." 

I  stood  gazing  at  him,  with  a  deep  pity  in  my  heart,  as  he 
looked  down  towards  the  youth-land  of  romance  as  to  a 
land  of  promise  past. 

He  went  to  his  stately,  beautiful  home,  and  we  to  the 
quiet  shades  at  Ridgeley.  It  was  so  pleasant  to  feel  our- 
selves in  this  quiet  little  home-nest  once  more.  To  rise  at 
morning  with  the  lark,  to  see  the  glorious  light  breaking 
into  prisms  far  over  the  New  Hampshire  hills,  and  the  mist 
in  the  valley  gather  into  purple  columns  that  shone  bur- 
nished with  long  bars  of  sunshine  which  came  down  through 
the  trees  that  grew  upon  the  mountain-side,  darting  golden 
spars  into  the  very  heart  of  morning  to  a  mellow  music  that 
seemed  a  refrain  of  wood-nymphs.  Then  followed  a  day,  a 
busy  day,  full  of  life  and  work ;  the  mellow  grain  fell  be- 
fore adroit  sickles,  and  the  harvest-season,  with  its  rich,  ripe 
melody,  went  gliding  by  ;  the  task  had  been  wrought — the 
reprisal  garnered. 

It  was  amusing  during  that  period  to  see  Milverton  in  a 
broad-brimmed  hat  of  oat  straw,  gathering  golden  sheaves, 
humming  frag-ments  of  bacchanalian  songs — such  as  wTeath 
the  bowl,  &c. — carrying  his  air  of  graceful  nonchalance  even 
into  the  harvest-field.     He  seemed  always  happy,  living  for 


THE  MONTANAS.  1  7 1 

the  most  part  a  surface  life  of  pleasure,  yet  occasion  ally- 
plunging  into  a  vortex  with  a  hearty  will,  as  though  this 
were  all — this  little  narrow  to-day,  and  there  was  no  to-mor- 
row, no  eternity.  I  could  not  avoid  laughing  at  his  drol- 
leries, though  he  always  inspired  me  mth  a  sensation  as 
though  I  was  falling  from  great  heights. 

The  last  evening,  the  one  previous  to  our  departure, 
came.  Ray  and  Mary  were  comfortably  ensconced  in  their 
new  home.  Mrs.  Kingswell  had  dispensed  the  means  that 
was  the  young  wife's  bridal  gift  with  unusual  tact  and  de- 
licacy, and  furnished  their  house  to  the  very  best  advantage. 
It  was  a  second  edition  to  the  home  at  Eidgley — a  minia- 
ture edition,  relieved  with  a  few  of  the  rich  tapestries  and 
brocatelles  of  Claremont ;  altoo-ether  as  snuo-  and  elegant 
a  nest  of  love  as  could  be  found  in  the  country. 

We  were  spending  the  last  evening  together — sittino-^  as 
we  had  often  done  before,  on  the  broad  piazza,  in  the  light 
and  smile  of  the  young  moon.  True,  there  were  missing 
ones  to  whose  absence  I  was  growing  sadly  accustomed 
of  late.  I  spoke  at  length,  and  my  words  bore  the  burden  of 
an  inquiry  made  at  many  partings,  yet  never  answered  with 
the  least  certainty ;  for  in  that  bright  to-morrow  of  our 
thought  may  lie  the  event  that  may  make  or  mar  the  rem- 
nant of  existence.  Impressed  with  this  mournful  truth,  I 
said  again : 

"  Uncle,  life  is  a  sad,  hard  thing,  is  it  not  ?" 

"  Young  people  on  first  becoming  acquainted  with  the 
actual  facts  of  existence  are  ready  to  vote  it  so.  I  wonder, 
however,  how  many  persons  of  your  age  could  be  brought 
to  endorse  your  sweeping  invectiv^e  ?" 

"  I  know  not  what  would  be  their  verdict,  uncle ;  but  it 
seems  to  me,  on  the  verge  of  constant  parting  with  some 
one    whom    I   love — a    fever    of  fierce   heat — an   aimless 


1  72  THE  MONTANAS. 

warfare    of  body    and    soul ! — a    swift,    sure    deatli,    and 

then " 

"  Ah  !  Jennie,  what  then  ?  Ask  of  faith  what  lies  beyond 
this  narrow  stream  of  time — beyond  the  golden  portals  that 
bar  eternity  from  view.  Ask  of  that  divine  heart  which 
poured  its  life-blood  out,  that  upon  the  mortal  tides  we 
might  be  borne  from  the  mazy  darks  of  earth  in  the  light 
of  his  great  sacrifice,  beyond  the  night  of  swift,  sure  death, 
to  a  morning  of  the  Infinite,  nis  love  means  more  and  is 
more  than  the  material  compensations  which  await  the  per- 
formance of  our  daily  task.  God  is  in  our  lives  everywhere, 
my  child;  he  will  take  us  to  his  great  heart  when  the 
labor  and  strife  are  ended.  He  will  be  with  you  when  the 
sun  goes  down,  as  he  was  when  you  came  into  the  world. 
Do  not  grow  weary  ;  live  long  in  the  days  of  your  romance, 
drink  often  of  those  fresh,  pure  springs.  Life  is  a  circle !  Age 
comes  back  at  last  to  bathe  its  dusky,  time-worn  visage  in 
tbe  primitive  fountain,  and  when  the  race  is  ended  reenters 
by  the  same  portal  through  which  it  first  emerged.  Keep 
a  spirit  untainted  by  weak  repinings,  and  you  will  not 
have  far  to  come  when  the  flesh  has  grown  weary  and 
weak,  for  the  crown  of  righteousness  Christ  has  promised." 
"  Uncle,  you  make  me  feel  strong  to  try,  and  I  will." 
"  That  is  a  brave,  good  girl,  Jennie  ;  the  greater  your 
efi"ort,  the  more  glorious  will  be  your  triumph  in  the  end. 
Remember,  *  the  race  to  the  swift  or  the  battle  to  the  strong' 
is  not  given.  But  to  him  that  overcometh."  How  lofty 
shone  that  glorious  spirit  from  his  eyes,  as  he  sat  there, 
moonbeams  falling  on  his  silver  hair !  Ah !  with  a  per- 
petual well-spring  of  youth  in  his  loving,  generous  heart,  he 
had  conquered  life  and  held  its  tissues  in  his  venerable 
hand.  How  strong  his  words  of  encouragement  always 
made  me  feel — equal  to  anything ;  so  I  returned  home  with 


THE  MONT  AN  AS.  173 

a  silent  suffering  deep  in  my  heart,  tlirough  which  ran  a 
wish  to  comfort  Stanley  and  to  school  myself  with  looking 
on  her  happiness,  thus  assuming  the  heavy  cross  and  sacri- 
fice that  must  be  mine. 

The  family,  including  all  the  servants  save  Aunt  Dinah, 
who  always  kept  house  in  our  absence,  were  at  Brightland. 
The  old  lady,  with  her  ever  ready  comfort  in  the  shape  of 
a  bountiful  meal,  entertained  us  very  pleasantly,  Milverton 
and  myself,  as  she  did  the  honors.  How  delightful  we  find 
the  little  details  of  home  gossip  to  one  returned  from  long 
journeying.  We  enjoyed  catechizing  Aunt  Dinah,  espe- 
cially Milverton  ;  who,  between  alternate  shces  of  cold  ham 
and  lemon  tartlets,  asked  many  questions  concerning  Stan- 
ley, who  someway  constituted  his  whole  conception  of  our 
family. 

Once  or  twice  the  old  lady  essayed  to  adopt  our  policy, 
and  venture  a  query  concerning  "  Mars  Raymond ; "  though 
this  was  done  with  the  air  of  one  who  feared  the  answer 
might  contain  intelligence  that  would  strike  her  dumb. 

"«Well  and  happy,  is  he  ?  Lord  save  us !  Who  ever 
thought,  when  I  was  a  raisin'  dat  are  bressed  boy,  it  would 
come  to  dis.  Just  think,"  she  added,  wiping  from  her  eyes 
the  ever  ready  tear-drops,  "  of  his  being  happy  away  from 
old  Mars,  his  dear  mother.  Miss  Stanley,  and  the  rest  of  us  ; 
it's  too  hard  to  bear,  Aliss  Algy." 

"  It  is  the  way  of  life,  you  know.  Aunt  Dinah ;  sons  must 
go  out  from  their  father's  home,  take  their  places  in  the 
great  world,  and  bear  their  part  of  active  duty  there." 

"  Yes ;  but  jest  think  o'  him,  tenderly  as  he'd  ben  raised, 
goin'  way  up  thar  to  live  whar  people  has  to  work  fur  the' 
livin'.  Why  didn't  he  marry  that  purty  young  crcetur. 
Miss  Retty,  and  settle  in  town." 

A  shiver  ran  through  my  fi-ame  as  I  thought  of  Retta 


174  THE  MONT  AX  AS. 

Austin  in  Mary's  place — Raymond's  wife.  The  hasty  com- 
parison, while  doing  no  credit  to  the  former,  did  much 
honor  to  the  latter. 

"  I  presume  Ray  can  best  answer  that  question,  Aunt 
Dinah ;  and  as  to  his  working  for  a  living,  we  all  do  that  in 
one  sphere  or  another,  unless  we  are  fortunate  as  Mr.  Mil- 
verton,  and  have  a  patrimony  handed  down  to  us  with  no 
thought  or  care,  but  to  spend  it  pleasantly  to  the  best  ad- 
vantage. In  that  case,  one  must  needs  be  of  a  tempera- 
ment that  will  exempt  us  from  the  endurance  of  those  hard 
spirit-toils  for  otbers  that  accrue  in  bearing  burdens  for 
those  we  love." 

"  Well,  God  knows  best — Christ  bore  one  for  us  all,"  an- 
swered this  faithful  old  bond-woman,  solemnly. 

Later  in  the  afternoon,  we  drove  down  to  the  city.  Ac- 
companied by  Uncle  Montana,  we  took  the  train  for  Bright- 
land.  Horses  and  carriage  awaited  us  at  the  station  ;  after 
a  swift  drive  of  a  few  minutes  only,  we  came  to  a -planta- 
tion, extended  for  miles,  bordering  one  of  the  famous 
swamps  so  noted  in  the  annals  of  Mrs.  Stowe.  SuiTound- 
ed  by  thick  clumps  of  pine-trees,  stood  the  white  wooden 
house  with  long  galleries  circling  around  and  dissecting  the 
abode  at  right  angles.  In  front,  a  long  slope  of  yard  with 
groups  of  woolly-headed  children,  playing;  this  was  our 
home,  or  rather,  Clyde's  home.  Here,  many  pleasant  days 
of  my  childhood  had  been  passed.  With  a  great  bound 
my  heart  went  back  to  that  old  time.  How  natural  it 
seemed  that  Clyde,  who  was  sole  master  here,  should  come 
down  the  clay  road  to  meet  us,  arrayed  in  an  immaculate 
suit  of  snowy  linen.  The  breeze  strayed  lovingly  through 
his  brown  curls  as  he  lifted  gracefully  his  broad-brimmed 
Panama  in  answer  to  my  salutation ;  then  came  forward  to 
shake  Milford's  hand  in  the  true  Southern  greeting.     How 


THE  MONTANAS.  l75 

mv  heart  thrilled  again  when,  stepping  in  front  of  his  guest, 
he  otfered  me  his  arm,  leaving  Milverton  to  follow.  Pleas- 
ure beamed  from  every  lineament  of  his  pui'e  Grecian  face 
as  he  exclaimed : 

"  I  am  so  glad  you  are  home  again,  Jennie  ;  you  can 
never  know  how  we  have  missed  you." 

I  answered,  vainly  endeavoring  to  still  my  heart  with  a 
gasp : 

"  Many  thanks,  Clyde ;  it  is  kind  of  you  to  say  so ;  I 
think  Stanley  must  have  wanted  me  ;  you  would  have  been 
cruel  not  to  have  sympathized  with  her.  I  imagine  it  was 
nothing  more  than  this — your  desire  to  see  me."  I  could 
not  tell  why  it  was — the  radiance  passed  from  his  face,  and 
again,  then  and  there,  between  us,  was  inaugurated  that 
cruel  silence  which  so  blighted  both  our  lives.  I  saw  the 
chano-e  instantlv,  and  as  usual  attributed  it  to  a  source 
entirely  foreign  to  the  real  cause.  I  was  always  wounding 
Clvde  without  meanino;  to  do  so.  This  time  I  thouo-ht  to 
bring  back  the  glad  smile,  so  I  said :  "  How  are  Stanley, 
aunt,  and  the  rest  ? " 

"  They  are  much  as  you  left  them,  thank  you,"  he  an- 
swered, in  a  hurt,  chilled  tone. 

I,  too,  was  grieved ;  I  withdrew  my  eyes  from  the  sorry 
face  that  I  loved,  to  behold  coming  down  the  path  an  appa- 
rition which  I  felt  to  be  Stanley ;  though  I  had  never  seen 
her  when  every  ray  of  her  glorious  beauty  seemed  so  con- 
centrated. It  burst  upon  me  with  such  force ;  the  cold, 
stony  look  had  passed  from  her  eyes  ;  golden  arrows 
danced  and  glittered  in  her  sunny  hair.  I  was  in  her 
arms — close  to  her  fond,  true  heart,  in  an  instant.  We 
maintained  long  that  firm  clasp,  leaving  Milverton  to  him- 
self, who  proceeded  to  make  the  acquaintance  of  every 
dog  and  negro  on  the  premises.     Clyde  stood  looking  over 


1 7  u  THE  MONTANA  S. 

those  long,  far  fields  with  a  dreamy,  absent  look  upon  his  face 
with  which  at  Claremont  he  had  been  accustomed  to  watch 
the  waves  roll  in  from  a  distant  sea.  Oh !  it  was  so  sweet 
to  have  Stanley  to  myself  again.  Now  that  she  was  in  her 
old  place,  close  to  my  well  tried  heart,  I  felt  how  much  I 
had  really  missed  her  all  along.  I  was  strangely  happy 
that  evening  as  I  knelt  by  Aunt  Edith's  bedside,  and  wept 
that  I  was  home  again.  Miss  Phoebe,  too,  I  think,  was 
really  glad  to  have  me  back ;  she  actually  laid  aside  her 
knitting-work,  seated  me  in  a  large  chair,  bathed  my  face, 
and  combed  my  hair,  while  I  told  them  about  Ray  and 
Mary;  the  wedding  festivities,  etc.;  and  how  happy  they 
were  in  their  new  home. 

I  unguardedly  chanced  to  speak  of  the  Hayne  enter- 
tainment; I  saw  that  Stanley  drew  her  breath  in  quick 
gasps,  as  though  a  stone  lay  heavy  on  her  heart.  I  endea- 
vored to  chano-e  the  curi'ent  of  her  thoupjhts  by  referrinsf 
to  the  visible  improvement  in  her  mother's  health ;  but 
she  said  no  word.  With  a  regular  motion  the  comb  passed 
through  my  hair  ;  then  Miss  Phoebe  answered :  "  Mrs.  Mon- 
tana is  always  better  at  Brightland ;  the  atmosphere  seems 
to  inviororate  her."  I  soon  learned  the  cause  of  Stanley's 
silence,  when  her  mother's  health  was  alluded  to  ;  this  im- 
provement was  the  purchase  of  her  sacrifice ;  yet  for  the 
most  part  she  was  cheerful,  and  even  assisted  in  the  prepa- 
rations for  the  marriage  with  the  greatest  alacrity. 

Now  came  a  message  from  the  gentlemen  that  we  should 
join  them,  which  we  did  on  the  grass  plat  'neath  the 
arches  of  tall,  dark  cedars.  Then  we  had  a  long,  cheerful 
chat  about  old  times,  during  which  Clyde  gave  utterance 
to  some  caustic  and  witty  things.  As  for  Milverton,  he 
always  made  it  a  point  to  say  the  greatest  number  of  droll 
and  humorous  things.     On  this  occasion  he  acquitted  him- 


THE  MONTAKAS.  l77 

self  with  unusual  honor.     Thus  we  sat  after  tea  until  chill 
dews  gathered  from  the    swamps,  and  the  notes   of  the 
whippoorwill  came  m  like  a  requiem.     I  saw  shadows  on 
Stanley's  beautiful  eyes  ere  we   separated  for  the  night, 
while   in   Clyde's  manner  there   was  that  moody   gloom 
which  always  cut  me  to  the  soul !     Often,  in  our  horseback 
excursions  adown  the  shadowy  road  bordering  the  swamp, 
he  would  ride  by  my  side  maintaming  a  silence  so  audible 
I  could  hear  the  beating  of  his  heart.     Then,  as  by  some 
sudden  inspiration,  his  soul  would  melt  and  come  into  his 
eyes— hang  dazzling  there  for  one  brief  instant,  then  sink 
back  like  the  fall  of  some  sweet  song.     Oh,  if  I  had  only 
dared  to  meet  that  glance  which  always  wandered  from 
my  face  out  into  the  dim  far  space ;  perhaps  even  now  the 
shadow  on  my  remnant  of  life  had  not  lain  half  so  darkly 
or  so  inexorably. 

Swiftly  the  summer  days  went  by  until  the  last  were 
gone— we  hngered;  ere  the  autumn  rains  set  in  heavy 
and  chill  we  took  Aunt  Edith  back  to  Claremont ;  only 
Clyde  remained  until  the  cotton  was  gathered  in  and  he 
saw  his  people  comfortably  settled  in  their  winter  quarters ; 
then  Brightland  was  closed  for  the  season. 

It  was  pleasant  to  have  Clyde  with  us  again ;  he  read  to 
us  in  the  evenings;  then  he  and  Milverton  arranged  some 
private  theatricals  for  our  special  benefit,  in  which  we  took 
the  greatest  delight.  On  one  occasion  MUverton  inveigled 
that  staid,  sedate  Miss  Phoebe  to  accompany  us  to  "the 
opera;  then  absolutely  gloated  over  his  triumph  for  a  week 
to  come.  Clyde  usually  spent  the  day  in  the  city.  Mil- 
verton  often  accompanied  him,  though  he  returned  to 
luncheon,  after  which  he  lounged  in  the  south  parlor, 
thrumming  the  piano  or  singing  an  amusing  treble  with 
the  harp,  to  the  utter  disgust  of  Aunt  Dinah  and  the  total 

8* 


]78  THE  MONTANA S. 

demolition  of  what  little  dignity  Hawsey  had  succeeded  in 
collecting  during  the  short  respite  between  pieces. 

He  absolutely  succeeded  in  so  far  coiTupting  that  young 
hand-raaiden's  morals  that  she  accepted  a  bribe  to  famish 
him  the  key  to  an  apartment  where  old-fashioned  dresses 
and  bonnets  were  hung  in  state.  Then  actually  assisted 
him  w^hile  he  proceeded  to  array  his  somewhat  pursy  propor- 
tions in  sundry  antique  habiliments.  In  this  guise  he  made 
his  appearance  at  the  door  of  Aunt  Edith's  sitting-room, 
where  he  stood  for  an  instant  endeavoring  to  look  Cleopatra ; 
failing  signally,  he  gathered  up  his  skirts  w^ith  dainty  fin- 
gers, and  bowed  himself  out,  leaving  us  convulsed  with 
laughter.  We  were  very  sorry  when  Milverton  returned  to 
the  Xorth,  I  imadned  because  he  did  not  wish  to  see 
Stanley  married. 

There  were  many  things  to  do  now ;  Stanley  and  I 
usually  spent  our  forenoons  shopping  for  the  mantua- 
makers ;  we  returned  at  noon  much  wearied.  Once  we 
were  displaying  our  purchases  for  the  inspection  of  Aunt 
Edith  and  Miss  Phoebe ;  Clyde  came  in  and  stood  looking 
upon  the  heaps  of  gossamer  and  laces  with  a  stern  fate  in 
his  indifferent  face,  which,  with  all  my  bravery  heretofore, 
I  could  not  bear  to  look  upon.  I  cast  down  the  baubles, 
going  abruptly  to  my  own  apartment,  whither  Stanley  came 
to  seek  me,  as  I  had  often  done  her  when  she  left  us  to 
struo^orle  all  alone. 

"  I  am  sick  and  tired,"  I  said,  in  answer  to  her  questions ; 
"  very  sick  and  tired,  that  is  all."  Oh  !  if  I  had  only 
known  what  those  few  impatient  words  would  bring  forth 
I  should  have  died  sooner  than  to  have  spoken  them.  The 
color  left  her  face,  white  as  death — wildly  rushing  like  a 
torrent  long  pent  up,  came  her  words  ;  I  could  only  shud- 
der and  be  still. 


TEE  MONTANAS.  1*70 

"  Yes,  Jennie,  I  know  you  are  tired  of  all  this  moclierv. 
I  am  so,  too.  I  should  wonder  if  we  were  not.  I  intend 
this  day  and  horn*  to  put  a  stop  to  it.  I  do  not  love  Clyde 
Ingram  ;  he  does  not  love  me.  What  will  be  this  marriao-e 
but  a  bargain  and  sale,  which  I  am  resolved  must  not,  shall 
not  go  on.  If  the  cards  had  gone  out,  I  should  recall  them. 
I  have  chosen  my  course.  I  would  rather  be  Clyde's  slave 
than  do  a  noble  man  the  injustice  to  become  his  wife  with 
this  lie  upon  my  souL  No  ;  as  the  days  go  on  which  bring 
us  nearer  to  the  consummation  of  this  fraud,  I  feel  more 
and  more  the  \'iolence  I  should  do  to  him  and  myself  if  I 
failed  to  retract  this  promise ;  therefore,  I  shall  do  so  at 
any  risk."  It  was  useless  to  expostulate  ;  I  knew  the  feel- 
ing in  her  heart,  for  had  I  not  beheld  just  such  a  look  of  soul- 
weariness  in  Warren  Hayne's  eyes  when  he  took  one  of  the 
little  hands  that  were  clenched  hard  too;ether  now  and  led 
her  from  the  gay  throng  to  the  stilhiess  without.  As  then, 
I  heard  the  sighing  sea,  and  it  seemed  to  calm  us  both. 
After  a  long  time  I  ventured  to  say,  in  defiance  of  my  re- 
bellious heart : 

"  Stanley,  it  will  kill  Aunt  Edith  to  have  this  cherished 
project  of  life  fail  her  at  the  last." 

"  No,  no ;  you  misjudge  her.  When  she  knows  how  I 
shrink  from  the  fulfilment  of  this  vow,  she  will  say  that  I 
am  right.  I  will  go  to  her  on  my  knees,  and  tell  her  all. 
She  will  forgive  me — but " 

"  But  Clyde  ?  "  I  rejoined,  hoarsely. 

"  Ah !  dear,  noble  Clyde,  if  I  was  sure  he  was  quite 
happy,  the  sacrifice  of  my  own  feelings  I  would  esteem 
very  lightly  ;  but  he  is  not — he  is  wretched.  It  will  be  a 
relief  to  him  to  have  this  bond  severed — it  has  long  been 
irksome." 

I  know  not  how  it  was,  but  Stanley  made  her  peace  with 


ISO  THE  MONTANAS. 

them  all ;  and  she  and  Clyde,  in  their  changed  relation, 
took  their  accustomed  places  at  the  tea-table  that  evening 
as  though  things  had  always  been  just  as  they  were  then. 
I  afterwards  learned  from  Miss  Phoebe  that  Stanley  had 
declared,  in  presence  of  her  father,  her  willingness  to  sell 
herself,  if  needs  be,  for  a  stranger's  gold,  but  never  to  Clyde 
Ingi'am,  whom  she  loved  as  her  brother.  Clyde  took  his 
departure  for  Texas  on  the  following  morning.  He  sent 
back  by  his  driver,  from  the  city,  a  note  to  Uncle  Montana, 
consigning  Claremont  to  his  charge.  'Twas  thus  it  ended, 
ere  the  snow  and  the  winter  came  ao;ain  to  Claremont.  At 
breakfast  there  was  only  his  vacant  place.  In  our  home 
and  hearts,  for  many  days  and  months,  there  was  utter 
loneliness,  for  we  missed  him  very  sadly. 


CHAPTER  XII. 

•'  The  atmosphere  of  home !  how  bright 

It  floats  around  us  when  we  sit  together, 
Under  a  bower  of  vine  in  summer  weather, 
Or  round  a  hearth-stone  on  a  winter's  night" 

Park  Bkn'Jamix. 

Aunt  Edith  was  feeling  better  as  the  spring  advanced. 
Affairs  at  Claremont  settled  back  into  their  accustomed 
routine,  though  from  our  home-circle  we  missed  Clyde  and 
Raymond — oh !  how  much.  It  seemed  so  strange,  so  sad, 
to  have,  besides  our  own,  only  uncle's  face  at  table  ;  then  in 
our  evening  reunions  we  were  so  lonely  that  we  welcomed 
even  Lane  Austin  pleasurably.  He  became  our  constant 
escort  on  all  occasions,  and  was,  in  truth,  the  very  beau-ideal 
of  chivalry. 


THE  MONTANA  S.  181 

Thus  winter  wore  away.  There  was  mucli  visiting  in 
private  circles  in  the  great  Southern  metropolis ;  inter- 
spersed with  the  usual  amount  of  heartiness  and  heartless- 
ness  in  the  society  of  New  Orleans.  Then  there  was  the 
same  cold  grey  look  on  the  distant  sea  as  its  waves  came 
rolling  in  with  groan  and  sigh ;  the  same  pulseless  trance 
of  nature ;  the  same  bird-singing,  grass-growing  awakening 
from  the  spell  ere  spring  in  all  her  gladness  burst  upon  us. 
Miss  Phoebe's  counterpane  was  laid  aside,  while  her  busy 
hands  trained  vines  in  the  arbor  and  summer-house,  where 
the  boys  went  to  smoke  when  at  home.  Beneath  her 
touch,  with  the  assistance  of  Hawsey,  the  flower-beds 
brightened,  blushed,  and  grew  fragrant. 

Claremont  wore  its  loveliest  hues  when  we  began  to  think 
and  talk  of  accepting  Raymond's  invitation  to  go  North  for 
the  summer.  We  could  not  go  to  Brightland  for  the  sum- 
mer. On  account  of  his  business,  uncle  could  not  accom- 
pany us.  Clyde,  who  usually  spent  his  summers  with  us 
on  the  plantation,  was  absent — we  knew  not  for  how  long. 
There  remained  for  us  no  alternative ;  so  biinging  all  our 
eloquence  to  bear  on  Aunt  Edith,  for  the  purpose  of  induc- 
ing her  to  go  with  us,  we  decided  to  spend  the  summer  at 
the  North.  I  was  sure  a  change  of  scene  would  benefit 
her,  "and  it  proved  that  my  surmises  were  correct. 

Stanley  was  passive ;  as  for  myself,  I  was  anxious  for 
anything  that  would  in  the  least  degree  ease  the  quick, 
sharp  anguish  that  always  rang  through  my  heart,  when  in 
fancy  I  canvassed  the  long  life  of  loneliness  outspread  be- 
fore me.  True  it  is,  as  the  Scotch  divine  has  so  touchingly 
said :  "  We  can  bear  one  day's  burden  at  a  time,  but  the 
weight  of  an  hundred  days  together  would  crush  the 
strono;est." 

Lane  Austin  proposed  to  be  our  escort,  and,  in  the  ab- 


]82  TEE  MONTANAS. 

sence  of  our  brother  or  Clyde  Ingram,  we  accepted  his 
kindness  gratefully.  The  music  of  April,  the  flowers  of 
May,  the  first  rosy  breath  of  June,  were  gathered  into  the 
category  of  nature's  past  treasures — into  an  echoless  world 
of  solemn  silences — ere  we  took  our  departures.  Then 
came  long  days  of  travel !  The  shrill  voice  that  announced 
the  leagues  by  which  we  measured  distances  between  ex- 
treme sections,  and  each  little  detail — some  pleasurable, 
others  wearisome — by  which  we  were  made  to  realize  this 
fact,  were  gathered  into  the  record  of  experiences  past  and 
gone,  like  those  sunbright  days,  to  return  no  more. 

A  year  had  gone  by ;  a  lightsome,  flower-garnished  year 
of  calm,  serene  joy  to  Raymond  and  Mary  in  their  new 
home ;  a  year  of  heart  changes,  soul-weariness,  of  vacant 
spaces,  and  unspoken  pain  to  us  at  Claremont.  We  came 
into  the  new  atmosphere  gratefally,  reverently.  A  gleam 
of  the  first  morning  joyousness  came  back  to  Stanley's 
face — so  grave  and  quiet,  save  at  sunny  intervals,  since  that 
other  summer  time  was  ended — as  she  knelt  beside  the  lit- 
tle crib  and  took  the  tiny  velvet  hand  of  her  brother's  first- 
bom  into  her  own  ;  a  baby  girl — our  sweet  bird  of  immor- 
tality ;  she  seemed  lying  there  winking  diamond  eyes  of 
blue  as  Stanley  twirled  sunbeams  of  golden  hair  that  were 
half  shadow  in  the  shrouded  room,  upon  the  white  brow 
which  she  kissed  oftener  than  the  cherry  lips ;  it  reminded 
her  of  another  brow — but  of  this  she  did  not  speak. 

Aunt  Edith  voluntarily  established  herself  by  this  little 
crib — on  duty  at  its  post.  It  was  strange,  the  interest  and 
delight  she  took  in  her  Uttle  grandchild.  With  more  devo- 
tion even  than  was  her  wont,  she  prayed  God  that  she 
might  be  permitted  to  see  this  little  one  grow  strong  to 
walk  the  hard  earth  way,  ere  she,  frail  as  infancy,  should  be 
called  to  walk  the  ways  beyond. 


THE  MONTANAS.  183 

"  What  do  yon  call  lier,  Ray  ? "  I  asked,  kissing  the  hem 
of  her  snowy  robes,  which  was  the  most  I  could  do,  for  I 
felt  the  holy  presence  of  angels  hovering  about  that  child. 

"  We  have  not  yet  decided,  Jennie ;  I  wish  you  would  as- 
sist us  in  finding  a  suitable  cognomen  for  our  little  queen  " — 
here  the  young  father  stooped  and  kissed  his  daughter's 
lips  with  dignity  so  tempered  by  love  that  was  infinite,  my 
heart  bowed  low  down.  Was  this  our  Ray,  so  reckless,  so 
rollicksome  of  yore  ?  Years  of  feeling  with  their  purifying 
tides  seemed  to  have  passed  over,  leaving  him  an  earnest 
man,  reverent  and  God-fearing. 

"  Call  her  Stanley,"    suggested  the  calm-faced  mother. 

We  all  acquiesced  save  her  who  was  most  specially  inter- 
ested. I  was  a  little  surprised  at  seeing  Stanley  turn  her 
face  towards  Mary  with  the  old  white,  stony  look  of  an- 
guish upon  its  fairness,  as  she  answered  in  tones  hoarse 
with  sufi"ering,  crushed  down  by  the  burden  of  her  life's 
one  regret  : 

"  Oh  !  no  ;  not  that  name,  please,  it  would  almost  crush 
the  little  thing;  it  is  a  sorrowful  name  to  bear."  Then, 
more  gently,  she  added : 

"  I  have  a  name  in  view ;  it  is  odd,  and  very  sweet ;  I 
am  sure  you  will  like  it,  Mary — an  artistic  combination  of 
two  names,  those  of  your  friend  and  husband,  Aljean  and 
Raymond — Ala  Ray." 

It  was  beautiful,  so  we  all  thought ;  even  Ray,  who  drew 
his  sister  to  his  heart,  and  in  one  long,  tender  embrace,  his 
consent  and  gratitude  were  expressed.  Thus  was  our  little 
angel  christened  Ala  Ray  by  a  baptism  of  joyful  tears  ! 
her  little  pilgrimage  inaugurated  by  the  loves  of  parents, 
sister,  and  friend.  Might  not  these  strong  links  which 
were  woven  with  our  heart-strings  round  her  keep  her 
upon  earth  ?     Was  the  chain,  all  shining  brightly  as  it  was, 


184  THE  MONTANA  S. 

sufficient  to  bind  an  angel  to  tins  \N-eary  world,  or  should 
those  little  feet  first  learn  to  walk  the  gold-paved  streets 
where  eternal  sunbeams  lie,  while  for  us  the  sands  fall,  the 
morning  flowers  perish  in  the  broad  noon's  heat,  and  suns 
sink  daily  into  night  ?  Mute  lips  have  kissed  thy  rod,  O 
Death,  since  the  first  golden  morning  dawned  on  Para- 
dise, and  will  continue  to  do  so  until  the  last  sands  fall — 
the  flower  wreaths  of  earth  shall  perish,  and  the  last  suns 
go  down. 

But  oh !  we  never  thought  of  the  failing  glories  of  this 
■world  or  its  waning  sun,  while  beamed  upon  us  this  bright 
mornino;  star  from  the  firmament  of  the  immortal.  AVe 
basked  in  its  radiance,  never  seeking  to  know  if  it  would 
set  in  the  darkness  of  night,  as  other  hopes  had  done  be- 
fore. We  neither  thought  of  nor  feared  the  curse  of  idolatry. 
How  strange  and  sudden  sounded  Mrs.  Kinofswell's  solemn 
warning  one  day  to  the  little  circle  gathered  round  the  crib. 
Aunt  Edith  held  Ala  in  her  frail  arms ;  Mr.  Kingswell  'sat 
near,  talking  gravely  to  the  little  lady  as  though  she  was 
quite  able  to  comprehend  what  he  uttered,  though  I  could 
see  he  regarded  my  aunt  with  as  much  tenderness  as  he  did 
his  grand-child  and  hers.  The  reverence  almost  with  which 
Mr.  Kingswell  deported  himself  towards  Aunt  Edith  and 
she  towards  him  was  to  me  a  matter  containing  facts  filled 
with  grave  speculation.  1  was  puzzling  my  head  about 
them  when  Mrs.  Kingswell  repeated  her  warning  that  we 
should  not  make  an  idol  of  Ala  Ray.  I  saw  that  Raymond 
shared  her  apprehensions  on  this  score,  yet  what  availed 
their  utterance  then  ?  The  silken  fetters  were  already  grown 
so  strong — then  the  object  of  homage  was  so  sweetly  fair, 
our  worship  was  involuntary.  We  could  not  withdraw  one 
tithe  of  the  great  love  we  had  given  her  as  time  flowed  on, 
even  though  the  sands  fell,  the  flowers  perished,  the  golden 


THE  MONTANAS.  185 

sun  went  down  very  calmly,  and  the  night  came  on  whose 
stars  saw  our  hearts  lying  in  the  dust  beneath  the  smiter's 
feet.  The  Haynes  were  occupying  their  summer  residence 
near  to  Ridgely.  Though  TVarren  was  in  Wayburn  more 
than  once  during  our  stay,  he  and  Stanley  never  met  in 
private  circles ;  it  would  not  have  been  quite  safe  for 
either.  Notwithstanding  the  cold  blue  eyes  of  his  wife, 
which  had  looked  her  displeasure  so  severely,  in  considera- 
tion of  his  attention  to  me  at  a  party  one  evening,  he 
would  have  sought  us  out  and  called  to  see  Stanley,  had  I 
consented  that  he  should.  I  had  gTave  reasons  for  my 
refusal.  There  was  that  in  the  very  presence  of  each  to 
the  other,  a  spell  which  would  have  unsettled  all  resolu- 
tions for  silence  and  calmness,  even  while  past  grievances 
were  uncancelled,  past  wrongs  unaccounted  for.  Ah ! 
when  heart  rose  up  to  meet  heart,  each  in  their  every  throb 
true  to  the  summer  music  of  old;  when  soul  and  soul 
unmasked  stood  calmly  looking  beyond  earth  and  time, 
where  would  have  been  those  frail  barriers  then  ?  An  act 
of  the  State  legislature  has  made  it  possible,  by  the  strong 
cords  of  society,  law,  and  custom,  to  fetter  a  man  ph}'si- 
cally  with  an  external  bond  of  marriage  ;  but  in  the  holy  rela- 
tion, can  it  do  the  rest  ?  Can  a  few  formal  words  uttered  by 
a  minister  of  God  make  the  music  of  his  life  and  fireside  ? 
Can  rude  hands  of  a  custom  that  is  universal  unlock  the 
inmost  doors  of  his  being  and  bring  the  treasures  forth  ? 
Ask  of  those  who  vamly  try  to  still  these  voices  uphfted 
above  the  hollow  observance  of  rites  sacred  only  when  hal- 
lowed by  a  love  undimmed  as  time  flows  on,  consecrated 
by  a  truth  that  never  pales. 

I  met  TS'arren  several  times  during  his  stay  at  Wayburn. 
There  was  ever  upon  his  face  an  anxious  look,  as  though 
he  sought  something  which  he  failed  to  find.     I  thought 


186  THE  MONTAKAS. 

"how,  with  that  faded  wreath,  had  perished  the  flowers  of 
his  life,  and  of  the  solitary  ship  cutting:  its  way  to  the 
heart  of  a  lonely  sea ;  but  never  more  ran  my  golden  river 
now — a  seal  of  fate  was  upon  its  lucid  current. 

Aunt  Edith  was  so  much  improved,  it  was  thought  best 
to  remain  at  Ridgely  until  November,  and  thus  another 
summer  rippled  by.  The  few  months  from  spring  to 
autumn  had  wrought  in  our  baby  a  full,  rich  change, 
though  I  often  saw  the  light  which  is  not  of  earth  dancing 
in  her  eyes ;  hence,  in  recognition  of  a  fact,  awful,  solemn, 
full  of  anguish,  I  could  only  bow  my  head  and  pray 
dumbly  that  she  might  linger  with  us.  Often  in  the  glow 
of  autumn  I  pondered  of  these  things,  and  marvelled  why  it 
was  so — that  the  fairest  and  brightest  things  that  are  given 
us  upon  the  earth  should  leave  us  thus. 

Many  a  sunset  found  Stanley  sitting  on  the  grass-plot 
with  the  child  in  her  arms,  watching  the  lingering  light  on 
those  far  New  Hampshire  hill-tops,  and  the  blue  mists 
gathering  in  the  valley  depths  below ;  then  again  until  the  full 
moon  silvered  them,  and  the  stars  took  up  their  watch  above, 
has  Ala  Ray  sat  silently  looking  into  space,  and  seeming 
to  feel  a  childish  need  of  something  we  of  earth  could  not 
give  her,  something  it  was  not  ours  to  give,  but  the  Father^s. 
Then  she  would  sink  into  a  deep,  sweet  repose,  smiling  while 
she  slept ;  the  mother  said  she  was  talking  with  the  angels ; 
and  the  father,  calm,  thoughtful,  yet  fearing  he  knew  not 
what,  would  kiss  his  little  darling  awake,  and  ask  her  over 
and  over  again  if  she  loved  to  sleep  under  the  stars.  Again 
and  ao-ain  has  he  broiiorht  her  back,  as  it  were,  from  her 
wanderings  in  Paradise,  to  lay  her  infant  beauty  to  his 
great,  true  heart,  as  if  in  that  strong  father-love  he  would 
keep  her  with  him  for  ever.  We  called  her  our  spirit-child 
— our  sun-ray.     When  the  little  folks  at  Waybum  spoke  of 


THE  MONTANAS.  187 

her,  they  always  called  her  Ala  Montana,  as  though  she 
were  half-grown,  and  not  the  infant  she  was. 

"  We  must  take  her  with  us  to  Claremont,"  Aunt  Edith 
said ;  and  her  tones  were  full  of  pleasant  curiosity  as  to 
what  Miss  Phoebe  and  the  servants  would  say  of  Ray's 
baby ;  what  rare  exhibitions  we  would  have  of  her  infant 
accomplishments.  Thus  we  went  on  scheming  for  the 
future,  and  making  plans — as  the  sons  and  daughters  of 
men  have  vainly  essayed  to  do  from  the  beginning  of 
time.  The  little  to-day  is  not  deep  enough  nor  broad  enough 
for  the  life  we  would  crowd  into  it. 

November  came  wdth  its  elections!     Abraham  Lincohi 
was  chosen  President  of  the  United  States.     A  Northern 
president !  think  of  that,  ye  delegates  to  the  Bahimore  con- 
vention !     Think  of  that,  ye  dignitaries  at  Charleston,  who 
recklessly  withdrew  your  support  from  the.  great  Douglas 
in  favor   of   John  C.    Breckinridge.      Ah!    did  they  not 
thmk  of  it  in  after  days — angrily,  defiantly,  ere  they  cut 
themselves    aloof,  with  the  states  they  represented,  from 
the  body  of  the  nation  ?      The  consen^ative  heart  went  out 
to  Douglas !     When  wire-working   partisans  reversed  the 
current  in  his  favor,  why  should  they  manifest  surprise  that 
the  faction  to  whom  their  act  had  given  a  majority  should 
have  asserted  its  latent  power,  and  gathered  strength  in  its 
triumphant    course?     Further  still,  when  those  Southern 
representatives  in  Congress  and  the  Senate  of  the  United 
States  withdrew  their  voices  from  the  legislative  halls  of 
our  common  country,  what  right  had  they  to  be  amazed 
that  the  great  machinery  crashed  on  without  them — whether 
to  glory  or  to  ruin  ?     Let  those  decide  who  shall  write  our 
Nation's  history — perchance,  her  epitaph. 

Life  in  every  department,  in  every  grade,  was  a  convul- 
sive tumult,  agitated  by  the  approaching  storm,  which  has 


188  THE  MONT  AX  AS. 

since  burst,  oh  !  how  wildly  !  Hearts  that  were  brave  and 
true  ;  graves  where  the  clods  are  new,  out-spread  'neath 
the  heaven's  bright  blue ;  sad  tears  for  nie  and  for  you, 
watching  the  long  night  through ;  all,  all,  save  the  weary 
few,  Ipng  out  'neath  th«  crimson  dew;  red  blood  where 
the  green  grass  grew  ;  our  loved  ones,  where  shall  we  seek 
them  ?  Yet  they  are  everywhere  save  in  the  homes  where 
their  names  are  loved  and  cherished,  where  we  shall  miss 
them  ever  more.  We  may  rebuild  our  national  structure, 
erect  pillars  of  her  greatness  that  tower  far  towards  the 
eternal  heavens,  yet  we  cannot  mend  the  household  altars 
that  are  broken  into  fraofments  in  this  strife,  or  brinor  back 
one  tithe  of  that  which  has  gone  down  beneath  thy  tides, 
O  Revolution  ! 

The  sands  are  falling — bolts  of  death,  the  flowers  perish 
and  are  consumed  in  the  fierce  fires  of  strife,  which  bum 
through  long  nights  of  anguish  after  the  suns  of  many  bat- 
tle days  have  set  in  blood,  which  all  eternity  may  not  wash 
out. 

But  we  are  here  to  tell  a  simple  story  of  the  heart-trials 
of  one  small  family  of  the  millions  that  are  unwritten — the 
God  of  battles,  the  Christ  of  peace  has  the  record.  ^\'Tien 
the  reveille  is  sounded  and  the  earthly  roll-call  has  been 
vainly  repeated,  and  those  who  were  left  sleeping  by  the 
way-side  have  failed  to  come  in  answer  to  the  summons, 
we  feel  the  assurance  that  many  whose  names  were  written 
among  the  "  missing,"  have  been  folded  to  that  infinite 
heart  of  the  God  of  storm  and  refuge,  who  from  out  the 
battle  tempest  has  taken  them  to  himself. 

Thus  came  Xovember !  a  cold,  bleak,  northern  Novem- 
ber, of  piercing  winds  and  bare  trees.  I  remembered  that 
dear  sojourner  amid  strange  scenes  had  repeated  to  me, 
with  such  pathos  in  his  tones,  that  thrilling  poem  of  Hood's, 


THE  MONT  AX  AS.  189 

adding — "  My  life  has  been  one  long  November ! "  I  knew 
and  felt  tbe  tnitli  of  what  he  said  then ;  the  autumn  pre- 
vious, as  we  sat  in  the  gathering  shadows  at  Brightland — 
the  Promethean  fires  of  genius  burning  in  his  glorious 
eyes.  Yes,  he  had  his  November  as  well  as  Hood,  only 
Clyde  Ingram's,  unlike  the  great  poet's,  was  unwritten — his 
genius  was  none  the  less  immortal  I  an  attribute  that  is 
never  at  home  with  the  commonplace  on  earth.  If  it  finds 
not  the  one  haven  which  it  seeks  all  through  its  world- 
bound  range,  a  love  pure,  glowing,  and  eternal,  it  is  ever 
with  its  possessor  a  stranger  and  pilgrim  in  the  life-ways. 
Perhaps  it  was  the  fact  of  my  having  grown  to  woman- 
hood in  the  atmosphere  of  his  presence,  inhaling  the  invi- 
gorating breath  of  grand  silences  and  soul-thoughts  shin- 
ing through  the  few  words  we  have  need  of,  that  has 
given  me  in  some  measure  a  clue  to  hidden  natures,  such 
as  Clyde's.  But  certain  it  is  I  never  hear  any  one  say  of 
another  "  they  are  peculiar,  I  cannot  understand  them,"  but 
I  immediately  di^dne  there  is  something  more  than  ordinary 
to  be  comprehended,  something  to  admire,  to  love,  to 
delight  in,  that  the  world  knows  not  of,  has  not  yet  recog- 
nised ;  for  it  is  slow  to  acknowledge,  and  has  no  innate  per- 
ception of  any  grand  truth,  individual  or  general.  Those 
are  the  natures  that  always  walk  the  loftiest  paths  of  earth ! 
rarely  coming  out  of  their  citadel  of  proud  reserve  ;  to  learn 
to  know  them  well  is  to  love  them  evermore. 

And  where  was  that  life — that  November  in  the  cold 
bleakness  of  our  season  at  Ridgely  ?  Not  one  word  from 
him  since  he  left  us  the  preceding  autumn.  Now  that  the 
flowers  were  perished  I  often  walked  out  'neath  a  sky  low- 
ering and  grey,  repeating  to  myself  a  little  poem  I  had 
once  read.  I  recall  it  to-day,  despite  the  time  and  space 
between  ;  there  is  comfort,  and  hope,  and  promise  in  it : 


190  THE  MONTAKAS. 

"  We  meet  at  one  gate — 
When  all's  over.     Thy  ways  they  are  many  and  wide ; 
And  seldom  are  two  ways  the  same,  side  by  side — 
May  we  stand  at  the  same  little  door  when  all's  done  ? 
The  ways  they  are  many,  the  end  ii  is  one." 

There  has  ever  been  a  light  in  these  little  lines  that  has 
shown  me  the  dark  way,  and  taupiht  me  a  lesson  which  but 
for  what  has  happened  I  might  have  been  long  in  learning. 

I  remember  I  was  thmking  of  it  the  last  evening  of  our 
stay  at  Ridgely.  Clyde's  uncle  sat  beside  me,  with  his 
kind  hand  upon  my  head ;  deep  into  my  heart  sank  the 
words  that  he  said. 

"  There  is  true  happiness,  Jennie,  without  alloy,  to  be 
found  in  the  performance  of  duty.  Xo  matter  what  rugged 
paths  we  tread — through  wastes  of  life,  to  the  sunny  plains 
beyond.  In  working  for  destiny  we  are  working  for  God ; 
and  the  most  direct  route  to  Him  and  to  heaven  is  one  that 
is  wrought  by  hands  that  are  ready  and  willing  to  do  His 
will.  There  are  heroes  and  heroines  in  this  world  more 
worthy  the  name  than  those  who  are  sung  in  story  or 
storied  in  song ;  brave  spirits  '  who  find  God  in  the  thing 
lying  nearest  to  be  done.'  The  record  of  such  lives  is 
yonder,  where  also  will  be  revealed  that  silent  struggle  of 
yours,  dear,  and  hers  and  his.  Trust  God ;  wait  in 
silence — only  work  for  the  end  and  the  victory ;  it  will 
come  to  you ;  if  not  here,  hereafter.    Be  strong,  little  one." 

And  listening  to  his  words,  I  tried  to  believe  him,  for  I 
felt  he  meant  what  he  said — this  practical  Christian.  I  saw 
the  radiance  in  his  dear  face  shining  like  the  sun  over 
the  far  hill-tops  that  I  loved  ;  further  off  from  me  in  these 
long  days  and  months  of  trial,  seemed  the  faith  of  which  he 
spoke,    and   the    promise   whose   fulfilment   he    pictured. 


THE  MONTANA S.  191 

There  was  only  for  me  the  weary  waiting ;  yet  I  prayed 
silently  to  God  in  that  November. 

Ten  days  later  the  same  circle  sat  by  the  parlor  fireside 
ill  our  own  home.  Besides  our  family,  Raymond,  Mary, 
little  Ala,  and  Mr.  Milverton  came  back  with  us  to  Clare- 
mont.  The  baby  was  delighted  with  ev^erything  she  saw — 
the  tropical  plants,  and  winter  birds  singing  in  the  boughs  of 
evergreens,  the  falHng  fountains,  the  flowers  that  were 
everywhere;  and  everybody  was  delighted  with  her,  even 
Aunt  Dinah,  who  regarded  her  curiously  between  her 
spasms  of  tear-shedding  as  though  she  feared  the  little  crea- 
ture might  take  wings  and  fly  away,  exclaiming  over  and 
over  ao;ain  : 

"  Who  would  a  thought  I'd  a  lived  to  see  Mars  Ray- 
mond's baby !  at  Claremont  ?  And  the  beautifiillest  creetur 
too  !  with  skin  like  them  little  white  daisies  in  the  cabin 
gardens,  and  eyes  jest  like  the  blue  sky !  and  hair  jest  like 
our  own  Miss  Stanley's  when  she  was  a  infant." 

Hawsey  was  immediately  installed  chief  protectress  of 
her  young  mistress,  and  became  so  much  enamored  of  her 
little  ladyship,  so  won  by  her  gentle  ways,  that  she  in  her 
enthusiasm  declared  her  intention  of  persuading  Miss  Mary 
and  Mars  Ray  to  permit  her  to  follow  the  little  blossom,  watch 
and  tend  her  even  when  transplanted  to  her  Northern  home. 

"  What !  "  said  Aunt  Dinah,  "  go  up  thar  and  be  a  free 
nigger?     Never!     De  gal's  gwine  crazy  plum." 

When  she  found  that  her  mother  greeted  the  proposition 
with  such  lofty  indignation,  Hawsey,  to  all  intents  aod  pur- 
poses, relinquished  her  hope  of  becoming  maid  of  honor  to 
the  juvenile  Miss  Montana.  Though  to  all  external  appear- 
ance Hawsey  acquiesced,  I  observed  that  she  did  a  good 
deal  of  private  wire-pulling  through  Raymond  and  the  rest 
to  gain  her  end. 


192  THE  MONTANA  S. 

Miss  Phoebe  knitted  more  persistently  than  ever  now ; 
slie  declared  lier  purpose,  before  so  vague  and  distant  of 
fulfilment,  had  assumed  a  tangible  shape.  The  counterpane 
had  long  been  destined  for  Raymond's  baby. 

Uncle  Montana  was  delighted  with  his  grand-child.  The 
third  day  after  her  arrival  he  brought  home  a  handsome 
cup  of  gold  with  her  little  name  upon  its  side.  Presenting 
the  pretty  gift  to  her  little  grace  with  mock  pomp,  he  told 
the  story  of  the  golden  cup  in  mythology,  and  how  the 
bearer  stood  at  the  gate.  Miss  Phoebe  interrupted  him  with 
saying : 

"  It  is  my  opinion  that  child  will  wait  long  at  no  gate ; 
not  even  the  golden  one  up  yonder ;  it  would  unclose  of 
its  own  accord  to  let  the  little  angel  in.  She  is  too  bright 
a  spirit  for  this  dark  world  of  sorrow." 

We  felt  her  words  were  true  !  We  made  no  answer ; 
how  could  we  ?  What  should  we  say  ?  What  was  to  be 
we  left  to  time  and  God. 


CHAPTER  Xm. 

"  There's  a  Divinity  that  shapes  our  ends, 
Eough-hew  them  as  we  will."  * 

Shakbpeasb. 

I  AM  off  for  Brightland  ;  who  goes  with  me  to-day  ?  was 
Raymond's  interrogatory  when  he  appeared  armed  with 
whip  and  gauntlets,  equipped  for  a  drive,  a  few  mornings 
subsequent  to  our  arrival  at  home.  Stanley  had  gone  to 
spend  the  day  with  some  fi'iends  in  the  city  ;  Milverton  had 
gone  with  her ;  Mary  was  doing  some  things  for  baby,  sit- 
ting meantime  in  Aunt  Edith's  room,  and  preferred  to  re- 


TEE  MONTANAS.  193 

main  with  her  during  the  forenoon.  Accordingly,  it  became 
apparent  that  the  pleasant  duty  devolved  on  me.  With 
pleasurable  anticipations  I  accepted  Ray's  proposition  to 
drive  behind  Clyde's  cream-colored  ponies.  The  groom 
made  a  few  observations  as  he  gave  the  lines  into  the  hands 
of  his  young  master  which  amused  me  very  much. 

"  They  will  take  you  that  seventeen  miles  to  Brightlaud 
and  back,  most  as  soon  as  the  railroad,  young  Mars  ;  Mars 
Clyde  Ingram  sot  much  store  by  dem  bosses,  so  he  did." 

""Who  ever  beard  of  the  railroad  taking  anybody  any- 
where !  the  cars  do  sometimes."  With  this  amiable  reflec- 
tion Raymond  settled  his  patent  leathers  with  a  good  deal 
of  dasb,  gathered  up  the  reins  with  a  flourish  of  the  whip, 
and  departed  at  a  rapid  pace,  utterly  ignoring  Peter's  voluble 
retort  to  the  eflect  that  "  Mars  Clyde  never  whipped  his 
hossesy  I  glanced  down  at  the  arched  instep  so  daintily 
encased  in  shining  boots,  remarking  mischievously  : 

"  Aunt  Dinah  has  been  sorely  troubled  lest,  with  your 
practical  life  at  the  North,  you  should  feel  called  upon  to 
dispense  with  some  of  the  luxuries  of  li\^ng  and  elegances 
of  apparel  for  which  you  were  noted  previous  to  your  leav- 
ing home.  I  perceive  you  adhere  to  the  old  system  in  one 
regard  at  least ;  you  always  believed  in  being  well  shod." 
He  answered  readily : 

"  Yes,  Clyde  and  I,  when  in  Germany,  formed  a  league 
within  ourselves  to  support  patent  leather  in  extreme  cases. 
My  Marseillaise  and  linen  suits  have  not  been  aired  nearly 
so  often  of  late.  It  has  ever  been  my  policy,  however,  to 
act  upon  the  hypothesis  that  cleanliness  is  akin  to  god- 
liness ;  I  endeavor  to  approach  by  that  means  as  nearly  as 
possible  to  the  divine  standard.  The  first  thing  I  did  last 
spring  was  to  order  a  genuine  Panama,  to  which  I  clung 
persistently  throughout  the  summer."     Then  changing  his 

9 


194  THE  MOKTANAS. 

high  tone  for  one  of  earnest  meanino:,  he  exclaimed  im- 
pulsively, like  the  frank  Raymond  of  old : 

"  I  wish  Clyde  was  here,  Jennie.  I  cannot  conceive  why 
he  wanted  to  go  away  leaving  his  business  in  town,  and 
Brightland  out  of  kilter,  as  it  is.  To  be  sure,  he  hiis  an 
overseer,  but  that  is  not  like  having  the  supervision  one- 
self. I  repeat,  I  cannot  conceive  why  he  left;  can  you 
inform  me  ? " 

"  No— yes — if  you  really  wish  it,  I  will  tell  you  why  he 
w^ent.  It  was  because  Stanley  refused  to  marry  him,"  I 
answered,  while  a  chill  crept  into  my  heart. 

"  The  reason  you  assign  involves  another  aspect  of  the 
case.  Why  did  Stanley  refuse  to  marry  him ;  do  you 
know  ? " 

"  I  presume  it  was  because  she  did  not  love  him." 

"  No ;  it  was  because  she  felt  Clyde  did  not  love  her, 
though  for  her  sake,  and  to  conciliate  our  parents,  he  would 
haA^e  sacrificed  his  personal  feeling  in  the  matter.  Believe 
me,  Jennie,  could  Clyde  have  given  his  heart  to  Stanley, 
noble,  generous,  and  true  as  he  is,  he  would  in  time  have 
won  hers  in  return  ;  but  it  was  otherwise.  Now  I  am  going 
to  tell  you  a  great  truth,  against  which  you  have  long  shut 
your  eyes.  Clyde  Ingram  loves  you,  Jennie,  devotedly  and 
entirely,  as  it  falls  to  the  lot  of  but  few  women  in  this 
world  to  be  loved.  I  only  speak  w^hat  I  have  known  for  a 
long,  long  time — since  we  were  children  together." 

In  my  heart,  now  I  believe  Raymond  spoke  truly.  I 
closed  my  eyes  and  clasped  my  hands  tremblingly,  while  the 
glorious  certainty  of  conviction,  like  waves  of  tenderness, 
swept  over  me.  I  heard  sweet  sounds  from  bowers  russet 
and  red,  that  girt  us  on  every  side.  Out  into  the  broad, 
bright  light,  streamed  anew  my  golden  river  ;  its  current 
piped  the  first  hope-lays  my  orphan  heart  had  sung  in  that 


THE  MONT  AN  AS.  195 

fair  land  of  promise.  I  was  like  one  awakened  from  what 
seemed  a  lonof,  troublous  trance,  thouo-li  now  tlie  ancruisli 
seemed  far  oflf,  as  my  faith  had  once  appeared,  when  Mr. 
Kin2:swell  told  me  once,  the  lio-ht  ere  long;  would  break  in 
glory.  It  had  broken,  and  I  could  think  only  of  my  great  joy, 
not  daring  to  look  up,  lest  it  should  vanish.  Now  I  opened 
my  mind's  eye  wide.  Great  Heavens  !  Was  that  my  beau- 
tiful river,  still  rippling,  gliding  on? — its  current  stained 
with  blood  !  Yes,  the  tides  ran  crimson  now — its  channel 
widening,  deepening — as  it  flowed  onward  to  an  ocean  of 
gore  !     I  clasped  my  hands,  exclaiming  : 

"  Oh,  Ray,  this  is  horrible  ! " 

"  I  sympathize  with  you,  Jennie ;  this  sudden  revelation  has 
bewildered  you*,  but,  for  the  life  of  me,  I  cannot  see  what 
there  is  so  horrible  about  it.  Clyde  is  a  chivalrous,  noble 
fellow,  one  of  those  grand  souls  who  would  unhesitatingly 
lay  down  life  for  his  love.  Why  could  you  not  give  him 
one  little  comer  in  that  great  heart  of  yours,  little 
sister  ?" 

"  Do  not  ask  me,  Ray,  anything  about  it ;  some  day  I 
will  tell  you  all  I  know." 

Just  then,  we  came  into  the  avenue  leading  to  Brio-ht- 
land.  Ah  !  November,  too,  was  here,  sighing  round  the 
lonely  house,  brooding  in  the  distant  marshes,  and  in  the 
bars  and  dots  of  mellow  sunshine  that  came  down  throusfh 
the  tall  cedars  to  play  at  hide-and-seek  upon  the  nut-brown 
grass.  TTDcn  in  that  solitary,  loveless  life  of  his — November 
always,  from  youth  to  age — one  long  November.  Yet  into 
my  heart,  illumined  as  it  was  with  the  light  of  the  glorious 
truth  that  he  loved  me,  none  of  the  glooms  and  shadows 
about  me  could  ever  come  again.  Though  I  was  happy  in 
the  knowledge  of  these  things,  I  dared  hope  for  nothing 
that  promised  the  fulfilment  of  my  hopes ;  for  oh,  those 


1 96  THE  MONTANA  S. 

crimson  tides  were  sweeping  on,  the  channel  ever  broaden- 
ing, deepening,  while  they  ran. 

The  servants,  all  anxious  and  excited  by  our  arrival,  imme- 
diately bestirred  themselves  in  the  eflfort  to  make  us  coiif- 
fortable  and  prepare  for  us  a  repast,  as  it  was  near  noon. 
Meantime,  I  made  a  tour  of  the  house,  while  Raymond 
talked  over  business  matters  with  Clyde's  overseer.  I  bathed 
my  face,  arranged  my  hair,  and  sat  down  for  a  breathing 
spell  on  the  upper  piazza. 

Brightland  was  situated  on  an  eminence;  below  were 
nut-brown  swamps  dotted  with  forests  of  pine,  through 
which  coursed  the  little  stream  by  whose  side  we  often  rode 
or  walked,  in  the  golden  days  when  my  bright  river  ran 
cheerily ;  high  over  head  the  cold,  grey  sky  arched  over  a 
November  sea,  I  seemed  to  hear  Clyde's  voice  and  feel  his 
presence  everywhere ;  and  my  heart  sent  forth  a  cry — Oh, 
brother,  come  back  to  me;  I  am  weary,  and  want  you  so 
much.  I  knew  now  why  it  was  he  could  not  bear  to  have 
me  call  him  brother ;  knew  also  what  he  meant  when  he 
said  "  I  loved  one  woman,  but  she  loved  not  me."  Yea, 
Raymond's  words  were  true  ;  Clyde's  heart  was  mine — only 
mine — through  long  years,  blind  years,  when  I  saw  it  not. 
When  I  thought  I  loved  alone,  pride  kept  me  silent  ;  now 
I  felt  that  he  too  suffered — the  barriers  melted  all  away. 

Ray  came  jauntily  round  the  comer  of  the  porch,  talking 
in  his  usual  off-hand  manner  to  Clyde's  overseer,  Mr.  Marley. 
This  gentleman  was  of  Northern  birth,  with  red  hair,  coarse, 
wiry,  red  whiskers,  and  cold,  black  eyes ;  just  the  man  to 
lord  it  over  slaves ;  one  who  would  draw  the  rein  tightly, 
never  sparing  the  rod.  He  said,  with  his  quick,  sharp 
accent : 

"  It  has  been  some  time  since  I  heard  directly  from  Mr. 
Ingram,  though  I   hold    weekly  communication  with  his 


THE  MONTANAS.  197 

agent  in  the  city.  He  told  me  that  Mr.  Ingram  spoke  of 
going  to  Australia,  in  a  recent  epistle  addressed  to  himself. 
Crops  were  very  fine  last  year  of  rice  and  cotton  ;  sugar, 
avei-age.  We  shall  cultivate  largely  next  year,  while  we 
have  the  hands.  '  Make  hay  while  the  sun  shines,'  is  our 
policy.  Do  you  know  ? "  he  continued,  squinting  one  of 
his  hard,  black  eyes  until  it  was  almost  closed,  "  since  peo- 
ple have  become  generally  aware  of  the  result  of  our  elec- 
tions, many  of  our  neighboring  planters  have  had  trouble  in 
keeping  do^vn  their  slaves.  Mr.  Ingram's' servants  seem  not 
to  have  become  affected  with  the  malaria,  for  he  is  a  good 
master,  and  I  believe  if  they  had  choice  to-morrow,  to  go  or 
stay,  they  would  remain  to  a  man,  though  the  elements  of 
dissatisfaction  may  arise  here  too,  as  they  will,  doubtless, 
all  over  the  whole  countr}-." 

The  man's  words  actually  startled  me.  The  stonn  had 
indeed  been  brewing  a  long  time ;  the  crimson  river  was 
fairly  booming  now,  and  I  felt  the  issue  to  be  certain  and 
near,  and  the  end  far  off;  yes,  far  beyond  the  blood-red 
tides  of  years ;  as  surely  on  that  day  as  on  this,  almost  four 
years  between. 

"  In  the  event  of  a  war  between  the  sections,"  continued 
Mr.  Marley,  "your  sympathies  would  be  with  usV  This 
last  was  said  with  an  insinuating  leer  of  familiarity  which 
Raymond's  recent  democratic  surroundings  had  not  in  the 
least  degree  prepared  him  for ;  he  drew  himself  up,  answer- 
ing very  coldly,  never  once  deigning  to  look  in  the  direc- 
tion of  the  hard,  black,  questioning  eyes : 

"  It  should  matter  but  very  little  to  you,  sir,  or  any  one 
else,  as  regards  the  direction  to  which  my  s}-mpathies  tend. 
I  shall  never  permit  them  to  sway  me  in  the  slightest,  at 
the  expense  of  principles  involving  right  and  justice ;  which 
means  duty  to  country  as  well  as  to  my  fellow-man ! " 


198  THE  MONTANAS. 

Spoken  like  our  own  Raymond,  I  thought — little  Ala's 
father.  "  Bless  her,"  he  exclaimed,  while  his  eyes  ran  over 
when  we  were  fairly  on  the  way  to  join  her. 

"  T  cannot  tell  you  half  I  feel  for  that  little  darling,  Jen- 
nie ;  or  how  intricately  day  by  day  she  is  growing  into  my 
life." 

"  You  need  not  seek  to  do  so,  Raymond ;  I  know  it  all. 
Ala  is  precious  to  every  one  of  us ;  but  oh !  brother,  I  feel 
it  is  wrong  to  worship  her  blindly,  passionately,  as  we  do. 
Supposing  we  should  lose  her?  Then,  if  war  should  be 
declared,  which  is  possible  and  probable,  you  may  be  called 
upon  yourself  to  go — for  your  country  to  die — leaving  her 
alone  in  this  weary  world.  In  that  case,  dearest  brother, 
would  it  not  be  better  that  she  went  first  ?  Remember,  the 
golden  portals  are  not  closed  against  our  Ala,  Ray.  Any 
time  that  God  called  she  could  go,  and  be  welcome." 

"  Oh !  don't,"  he  exclaimed,  as  though  my  words  were 
lances  that  cut-him  to  the  soul;  "it  almost  kills  me,  Jennie, 
to  think  of  this,  even."  He  dashed  the  tear-drops  impa- 
tiently from  his  face,  and  we  came  swiftly  up  the  Claremont 
road.  Where  was  my  warning  when  Hawsey  came  out  to 
meet  us  with  Ala  seated  upon  her  shoulder,  holding  her 
dainty  little  hands  while  the  child  very  demurely  and  qui- 
etly smiled  to  us  a  welcome  home  ?  Was  it  the  slanting 
sunbeams  streaming  over  her  brow  and  face  and  hair  that 
made  her  seem  so  supernaturally,  almost  divinely  beauti- 
ful ?  I  only  know  I  never  saw  on  any  other  human  face 
the  expression  which  her  baby  features  wore  very  often 
nowadays. 

A  pleasant  group  sat  dressed  and  waiting  on  the  veranda 
in  the  Indian  summer  glow  of  a  waning  day,  which  I  called 
my  last  day  at  Brightland.  Tea  was  announced,  which  was 
spread  in  the  most  luxurious  manner;  broiled  meats  and 


THE  MONTANAS.  199 

game ;  liot  biscuits  with  coffee,  tea,  and  cliocolate ;  a  side- 
^able  bearing  fruits  of  every  description  which  the  season 
and  climate  afforded.  Lane  Austin  joined  us  in  this  meal, 
as  was  his  custom  to  do  at  evenings  nowadays.  Though  on 
this  special  occasion  he  startled  us  with  a  formal  announce- 
ment that  the  Haynes  had  arrived  in  the  city  for  the  win- 
ter. I  saw  the  very  shadow  of  a  crimson  flush  come  into 
Stanley's  cheek,  then  fall  again ;  but  she  made  no  sign. 

"  Will  you  call  upon  them  ? "  "  No,"  Raymond  an- 
swered abruptly  and  emphatically  ;  thus  the  matter  rested, 
though  Stanley  suffered,  ph  !  how  much :  and  I  loved  and 
sympathized  with  her,  which  was  the  most  that  I  could  do. 
I  was  powerless  to  help  her  in  any  way  to  bear  her  burden. 

The  misunderstandings  which  had  driven  Clyde  and  nae 
asunder  were  nothing  to  this  ban  which  made  Stanley's 
pure  love  a  sin  in  sight  of  God  and  man. 

We  met  them  the  next  afternoon  as  we  drove  down  to 
the  city.  Stanley  was  looking  radiant  in  a  dress  of  cherry 
silk,  trimmed  with  guipure  lace,  finished  with  pomt  collar 
and  cuffs ;  an  ermine  mantle,  swinging  by  its  snowy  silken 
cord  and  tassel,  partially  enveloped  her  shoulders.  Her  eyes 
were  sparkling,  her  curls  flowing,  cheeks  glowing ;  this  was 
the  picture  that  met  Warren's  eyes  as  we  swept  hastily  by 
them.  I  intercepted  his  glance  of  recognition  of  her,  em- 
bodying a  wild,  passionate  gleam  that  made  me  tremble ; 
there  was  in  it  such  an  expression  of  reckless  steadfastness 
which  told  he  had  suffered  much,  and  in  that  instant  was 
ready  to  do  and  to  dare  anything  or  everything  for  her ; 
even  to  ignore  his  galling  bonds — to  come  out  from  them 
to  her  pure  side  again,  and  vow  in  the  presence  of  aU  the 
world  the  love  that  was  consuming  him.  I  knew  that  safety 
for  either  lay  only  in  time  and  distance;  in  which  even 
the  frailest  might  take  refage.     They  were  both  upright  in 


200  THE  MONTANAS. 

principle,  but  love  was  at  tlie  helm ;  and  duty  was  a  frail 
ship  in  which  to  combat  the  surging  w^,ves  while  the  tides 
of  fate  set  stronor  a<jainst  them. 

It  was  a  hard  winter  for  Stanley ;  we  met  the  Haynes 
almost  daily  in  our  drives — occasionally  at  the  theatre  and 
opera ;  but  never  in  our  private  circle ;  it  was  my  policy 
if  possible  to  avoid  a  tete-a-tete  for  those  two — my  cousins. 

One  evening,  near  the  close  of  the  season,  there  came  a 
party  of  serenaders  to  Claremont  from  the  city.  I  detected 
Warren's  voice  in  the  chorus  to  a  full  rich  ballad,  embody- 
ing a  German  air  very  pathetic  and  touching.  Stanley 
brought  me  a  card  upon  which  she  had  pencilled  these 
words — "  Go  Warren,  and  for  my  sake  as  well  as  for  your 
own,  never,  never  come  here  again."  There  was  no 
signature,  but  I  knew  he  w^ould  instantly  recognise  her 
chirography. 

"  I  approve  your  measure,  but  I  should  have  worded  it 
somewhat  diflferently ;  Warren  is  a  gentleman,  you  know ; 
this  may  lead  him  to  fear  you  misconstrued  his  presence 
here."     Her  answer  reassured  me : 

"  No,  no,  he  came  thoughtlessly,  I  am  sure,  meaning  no 
reflection  whatever  upon  my  name.  There  was  in  that 
plaintive  song  of  his  the  burden  of  memories  that  wdll  not 
be  crushed  down  ;  he  is  haunted  by  a  ghost  of  former  joy, 
and  forgets  that  I  may  not  be  strong  enough  to  hear  the 
hopeless  voices  that  tell  me  of  a  by-gone  time." 

I  spoke  slowly  and  cautiously  to  Stanley,  after  having 
despatched  a  servant  with  the  card  addressed  to  Warren  ; 
much  as  I  felt  for  her,  I  also  pitied  him.  His  manner  in 
their  meetings  recently,  brief  and  circumscribed  as  they 
were,  had  given  her  vastly  the  advantage  ;  he  had  mani- 
fested all  that  he  felt  for  her — the  hopeless  love  and  vain 
reorret ;  while  she  was  more  than  ever  coniinced  that  War- 


THE  MONT  ANAS.  201 

ren  had  married  for  wealth.  He  never  di\aned  that  she 
loved  him  stiU ;  he  deemed  her  false  and  fickle — thought 
she  had  cast  off  Clyde  from  pure  caprice. 

I  had  never  told  Stanley  of  the  evidence  he  had  of  her 
untruth  to  him ;  had  not  shown  her  the  letter  I  held  in 
my  possession ;  I  did  not  deem  it  best,  just  yet,  to  reopen 
wounds  that  had  bled  at  every  pore.  I  knew  how  cold 
and  cruel  must  seem  those  little  words  of  hers  to  him  who 
already  misjudged  her.  As  we  stood  next  morning  on  the 
veranda,  a  sen*ant  on  horseback  came  up  the  carriage  road 
from  the  city,  bearing  an  exquisite  bouquet,  together  with  a 
note  for  Miss  Montana.  "There  is  no  answer,"  she  said 
haughtily  to  the  man ;  then  drew  me  softly  into  her  own 
apartment,  closed  the  door,  and  read  as  follows  : 

"  You  have  bidden  me  come  no  more  where  I  may  look 
upon  you ;  you  have  denied  me  the  simple  "desire  of  Iny 
eyes  ;  I  wiU  comply.     If  from  all  the  past  you  wiU  permit 
yourself  to  recall  the  one  of  my  words  that  was  most  ear- 
nest and  full  of  solemn  meaning,  believe  that  word  to  be 
true  to-day  as  it  was  in  that  bright  time.     And  let  this  be 
my  apology  for  having  annoyed  you  on  the  last  evening  of 
my  stay.     I  leave  for  New  Orleans  to-day  !  let  these  simple 
flowers  find  a  place  somewhere  near  you— within  the  circle 
of  your  presence  ;  they  bear  to  you  my  long  farewell — a  fare- 
well which  I  dare  not  speak ;  my  lips  henceforth  are  sealed." 
I  saw  how  it  was ;  his  patient  words  had  smitten  a  place 
in  her  heart  which  she  thought  cold  and  hard  towards  him ; 
ah !  it  was  only  her  power  of  will  that  made  it  seem  so. 
She  tottered  to  where  I  sat,  her  arms  outstretched,  with  a 
little  sharp  cry  of  anguish  that  was  ere  long  broken  by 
sobs  that  shook  her  young  frame   like   a  reed  as  she  lay 
with  her  golden  head  upon  my  shoulder,  and  her  white, 
cold  arms  clasped  rigidly  about  my  neck.     Her  emotional 

9* 


202  TEE  MOKTANAS. 

moments  of  late  had  been  so  few,  I  was  surprised  at  hei 
indulgence  of  feeling  even  on  this  occasion. 

"How  could  you  be  so  strong  and  hide  all  from  him, 
when  you  have  suffered  daily,  hourly,  so  much  ? " 

"/^  was  from  her  I  hid  the  pain,^''  she  said,  almost  fierce- 
ly ;  starting  up  and  petulantly  bathing  her  face,  as  though 
angry  with  herself  for  the  outbreak. 

I  mused  for  a  long  time,  then  said: 

"  Stanley,  darling,  has  it  ever  occurred  to  you  there 
might  have  been  some  counter  current  here — some  tide  be- 
neath the  tides,  which  has  turned  the  current  of  two  lives 
apart,  when  they  should  have  flowed  together  ?  You  be- 
lieved Warren  false ;  I  believe  that  he  has  always  been 
true ;  that  his  marriage  with  that  woman,  and  the  prolonged 
pain  he  suffers,  are  the  inevitable  results  of  a  conviction 
that  you  yourself  were  not  true,  and  cared  nothing  at  all  for 
him." 

She  made  a  haughty  gesture  of  incredulity,  but  I  pro- 
ceeded fearlessly  nevertheless : 

"You  have  both  been  deceived — duped — cruelly,  shame- 
fdly ;  take  my  word  for  it.  I  will  not  tell  you  howl  know 
this ;  you  might  not  feel  inclined  to  listen ;  perhaps  it  is 
better  you  should  not  hear  it.  There  is  one  thing,  how- 
ever, I  wish  you  to  understand;  it  is  that  you  are  very  un- 
just to  Warren  Hayne  when  you  cherish  any  feeling  of 
resentment  towards  him.  He  is  at  least  in  every  way- 
worthy  your  esteem  and  friendship,  if  nothing  more ;  kinder 
words  are  due  to  him  than  were  those  of  yours  last  night. 
I  am  sure  you  will  repent  them  some  time.  I  wonder  he 
bears  them  gently,  patiently,  as  he  does.  I  will  leave  you 
now ;  I  must  go  to  Aunt  Edith ;  please  join  us  soon." 

But  Stanley  did  not  come.  She  remained  alone  through- 
out the  day ;  she  did  not  respond  to  her  brother's  special 


THE  MONTANAS.  203 

summons  to  dinner — excused  herself  upon  the  score  of  a 
headache.  Ray  gave  me  a  piercing  look  of  inquiry  when 
Hawsey  returned  with  her  answer,  then  said  in  .a  quiet 
undertone,  designed  for  my  ear  only  : 

"  She  has  had  a  good  many  headaches  recently." 

'■'■Heartaches,  too,^^  was  my  mental  suggestion,  but  he 
understood  that  too  well.  As  I  was  going  to  my  own 
room,  I  met  her  brother  coming  from  hers,  looking  much 
pleased  about  something. 

"  She  has  promised  to  witness  La  Fille  du  Regiment  this 
evening,"  he  exclaimed,  his  face  full  of  concern  for  the  even 
transitory  happiness  of  his  dear  sister.  I  thought  often  of 
that  expression  of  triumph  on  his  face  in  days  that  came 
after — when  he  was  fighting  on  a  broad  battle-field  that 
was  far  from  our  home  and  his. 

I  kept  wondering  all  the  afternoon  if  it  were  best  to  tell 
Stanley  all  that  I  knew  concerning  that  affair  of  hers  and 
"Warren's ;  act  as  I  felt,  and  express  boldly  my  conviction 
that  Retta  Austin  had  intercepted  their  correspondence. 
Finally,  I  decided  it  was  but  just  so  to  do  ;  whatever  peace 
could  come  between  them  now,  would  aid  in  tranquillizing 
the  mind  of  each,  and  could  be  maintained  silently  without 
encroaching  upon  another's  rights ;  at  least,  it  would  take 
the  burden  of  a  crushing  doubt  from  the  heart  of  my  sweet 
friend. 

I  went  to  her  room  later  in  the  afternoon ;  she  was  drink- 
ing a  cup  of  tea,  preparatory  to  making  a  toilet  for  the  even- 
ing.    She  said  languidly : 

"Come,  Aljean,  I  want  you  to  help  me.  Ray  says  I 
must  look  my  best  to-night ;  do  you  know,  since  brother 
has  been  talking  to  me  so  earnestly  about  many  things,  1 
have  half  a  mind  to  accept  Milverton's  hand,  and  go  away 
with  him   anywhere — I   care  not — across  the  ocean,  per- 


204  TEE  MONTANAS. 

haps?  I  am  reckless,  and  ready  for  anything  and  every- 
thing." 

I  quietly  dismissed  Hawsey,  installed  myself  dressing- 
maid  2^^o  tern,  to  her  young  mistress,  while  she  continued  to 
talk  on  in  that  careless,  hopeless  strain,  which  cut  me  deeper 
than  her  words  of  anguish  : 

"  It  may  as  well  come  now,  all  that  may  happen  in  time. 
I  presume  I  must  get  married ;  everybody  says,  how  strange 
it  is  that  we  do  not — you  and  I,  so  sought  for  and  appa- 
rently desirable."  She  gave  a  little  shudder  here ;  she  was 
too  weary  and  heartsore  to  play  well  the  part  she  had 
assumed. 

"  Lane  Austin,  Jennie,  who  worships  the  very  ground  on 
which  you  walk ;  let  us  make  those  two  poor  fellows  happy. 
What  say  you  ?" 

"  And  ourselves  miserable  in  the  meantime  ? "  I  said, 
interrogatively. 

"  There  are  two  prominent  barriers  between  Lane  and 
myself;  we  lack  the  consent  of  the  parties  most  directly  con- 
cerned ;  he  is  not  in  the  notion,  neither  am  I ;  on  that  point 
we  understand  each  other  perfectly.  Though  were  it  other- 
wise, I  assure  you  I  should  never  outrage  my  soul  by  marrying 
any  man  whom  I  did  not  and  could  not  love,  even  if  he  loved 
me  ever  so  much ;  neither  would  you,  though  you  were 
talking  at  random  thus."  She  mused  for  some  time,  then 
resumed :  "  After  all,  what  avails  this  weary  waiting  ?  It  is 
aimless ;  rushing  into  that  other  association  would  not  be 
wholly  objectless ;  new  scenes  and  new  ties  might  wean  me 
from  some  I  find  it  necessary  to  eschew.  Oh,  Jennie !  I 
am  heartily  sick  of  the  whole  pageant — this  life  I  lead." 

"  If  this  were  all,  Stanley,  we  might  well  become  so ; 
but  there  is  something  beyond,  when  the  pain  and  waiting 
shall  be  over.     Uncle  Kingswell  has  told  us  of  these  things 


TEE  MONTANAS.  205 

many  times.  I  did  not  realize  his  hope  then ;  I  have  since 
felt  the  truth  and  glory  of  all  that  he  meant.  Life  is  but 
a  trial  season,  a  prelude  to  eternity." 

"  Ah !  it  does  for  you,  Jennie,  who  have  no  secret  pain 
to  bear,  to  talk  of  life  as  though  it  was  far  away  from  you ; 
I  am  thirsty,  and  feel  its  burdens  are  so  real.  It  is  much 
harder  for  those  who  are  travel-stained  and  overcome  with 
the  heat  and  dust  of  the  journey  to  come  into  that  higher, 
brighter  way  that  Mr.  Kingswell  talks  so  sweetly  and  hope- 
fully about.  Dearest,  the  pathway  to  that  promised  land  lies 
through  toil  and  tears  and  suffering ;  there  are  thorns  in  it, 
and  I  am  too  weak  and  powerless  to  pluck  them  out." 

"  If  you  cannot  do  this  for  yourself,  perhaps  you  can  for 
a  fellow-traveller  whom  we  once  esteemed  very  dearly.  He 
is  your  friend  and  mine.  Do  as  I  bid  you,  and  the  sharp 
arrow  will  be  extracted ;  the  act  will  be  as  balm  to  the 
bleeding  abrasion."  So  saying,  I  took  from  my  pocket  a 
casket  containing  the  pearls  Warren  requested  so  earnestly 
that  I  should  give  her.  "  You  will  wear  them,  dear,  for  his 
sake  and  mine." 

She  assented,  doubtless  imagining  the  gift  came  from 
Clyde,  though  with  characteristic  delicacy  she  forbore  to 
question  me  on  the  subject,  believing  I  would  teU  her  all  that 
was  needful  when  the  fitting  season  came.  I  rolled  from  my 
fingers  masses  of  golden  curls,  then  hfted  them,  fleecy  and 
light,  from  her  pure,  beautiful  brow,  ran  the  little  fillet  of 
bright  blue  across  the  glittering  mesh,  and  caught  them  by 
the  pearl  brooch  at  the  side.  I  gathered  the  longer  in  a 
cluster,  twisted  with  them  a  few  half  open  orange  blossoms, 
and  caught  the  mass  at  the  back  of  her  Grecian  head  with 
a  pure  white  comb,  then  clasped  the  pendants  iu  her  tiny 
ears,  then  stood  off  to  witness  the  effect  of  my  handy  work. 
I  had  reason  to  feel  proud  of  my  effort  and  my  friend.     I 


206  THE  MONTANAS. 

call  her  so,  because  in  tlie  category  of  terms  there  are  few 
dearer  to  me  than  this.  She  was  radiantly  lovely,  attired 
in  a  dress  of  Marie  Louise  blue,  with  an  ermine  victorine 
caught  by  its  cherry  tassels.  It  was  curious  to  see  how  the 
golden  rings  of  hair  broke  here  and  there  from  the  mass 
of  brightness  with  no  apparent  design  but  to  look  what 
they  were,  a  part  of  Stanley's  witchery.  The  household 
greeted  her  with  acclamations  of  delight  when  she  came 
below  stairs ;  MOverton  handed  her  into  the  carriage. 

"  Nothing  could  console  your  unworthy  votaries  in  having 
lost  your  society  for  the  day,  but  the  fact  of  your  coming 
forth  so  radiant  this  evening."  Poor  fellow,  what  else 
could  he  say,  he  was  so  dazzled  by  this  vision  of  loveliness. 
Stanley  thanked  him  kindly  as  we  were  being  whirled 
away ;  the  buggy  containing  Raymond  and  Mary  followed 
swiftly  in  our  wake. 

We  had  scarcely  taken  our  places  in  Clyde's  box  when  I 
observed  the  Haynes  immediately  opposite  in  the  dress 
circle.  Stanley,  too,  saw  them,  though  she  seemed  not  to 
do  so  as  she  sat  playing  abstractedly  with  the  cherry  tassels 
of  her  victorine. 

I  caught  Warren's  eye  just  in  time  to  intercept  a  look  of 
grieved  tenderness  which  I  had  seen  so  often  on  his  face 
of  late.  The  pained  expression  passed  from  his  brow  as  a 
vapor  in  the  "  clear  shining  after  rain ; "  then  an  expression 
of  rest  came  over  his  features  it  was  pleasant  to  look  upon. 
He  turned  his  attention  now  to  his  wife,  while  the  rich 
swell  of  -orchestral  music  rose  and  fell  like  the  waves  of 
tenderness  in  those  two  souls  who  loved  a  love  that  was 
hopeless  yet  deathless.  Stanley  was  wearing  his  gift ;  she 
did  not  then  despise  him  utterly  ;  it  was  for  this  evidence 
of  relenting  and  forgiveness  on  her  part  he  had  waited  in 
New  Orleans  another  day.     Now  he  could  go  home  braver, 


THE  MOITTANAS.  207 

stronger  to  do  his  work  in  life.  Strange,  how  even  this 
little  manifestation  that  Stanley  remenibered  him  more 
kindly,  than  her  apparent  slight  and  her  words  to  him 
the  previous  day  had  given  him  reason  to  believe,  filled 
his  heart  with  intense  joy. 

We  all  felt  happier,  I  think,  for  that  evening's  entertain- 
ment. We  could  look  into  the  future  with  more  clearness 
and  certainty — even  Stanley,  whose  strange  mood  of  the 
morning  had  entirely  passed  away.  She  was  more  at  rest, 
and  seemed  to  accept  the  destiny  that  was  her  life 
patiently.  She  asked  me  no  further  question  concerning 
the  donor  of  those  pearls,  and  I  told  her  nothing  more  just 
then ;  the  time  was  not  yet  come.  I  hoped  I  scarce  knew 
what  for  either  her  or  Warren — only  that  God  would  help 
them  and  bring  them  into  His  peace  and  His  great  love, 
which  was  strength  and  might. 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

"Then  shook  the  hills  with  thunder  riven, 
Then  rushed  the  steeds  to  battle  driven, 
And  louder  than  the  bolts  of  heaven 
Far  flashed  the  red  artillery." 

Campbell. 

Now  come  we  to  the  saddest  part  of  our  story !  The  crim- 
son tides  sweeping  through  my  fancy  came  nearer  and 
nearer.  Through  homes  of  the  North  and  flowers  of  the 
South  ran  their  desolating  course.  Cold  hearts  sat  shivering 
by^  colder  hearthstones  as  the  blood-red  current  trailed. 
Oh !  whither  would  it  bear  our  hopes  and  dreams  ?  Who 
coutd  say,  There  is  no  face  that  I  have  kissed  and  loved 


208  THE  MONTANAS. 

lying  underneath  the  clods  of  a  way  since  worn  and  beaten 
into  dust  by  feet  that  bear  our  sacrifices  to  the  funeral  pyre, 
to  await  the  fiery  billows  that  should  consume  them.  Ah ! 
no ;  rapidly  the  keen  darts  are  flying ;  you  may  encase  your 
heart  in  a  covering  of  adamant,  they  will  yet  pierce  you 
through.  Many  a  life-path  to  the  far  eternal  lies  through 
fields  of  gore,  and  our  dead  sleep  not  where  home-shades 
may  shelter  them  from  the  noonday  sun  that  beat  upon 
them  in  their  last  toilsome  march. 

The  Haynes,  as  well  as  Raymond  and  his  family,  had 
returned  to  the  North.  There  were  summer  flowers  and 
warm  bright  suns  that  shone  with  a  lustre  that  was  mockery. 
The  inauguration  of  Mr.  Lincoln  proved  to  be  but  another 
name  for  the  inauguration  of  rebellion  in  the  South,  which 
involved  our  country  in  civil  war.  One  by  one  those  States 
had  broken  the  old  band  of  sisterhood,  had  seceded,  and 
formed  an  antagonistic  league  under  the  Palmetto  banner 
of  South  Carolina. 

Ere  March  had  sighed  out  her  last  days  of  peace,  and 
April  came  cheerily  with  her  bright  wreaths  and  glad  voices, 
"  the  guns  of  Sumter  knelled  in  the  war."  Oh  !  with  what 
agonised  terror  we  watched  and  prayed,  while  the  South  with 
one  accord,  one  heart,  flew  to  arms,  and  were  ere  long  en- 
rolled as  enemies  to  country  and  government.  Men  of  the 
South,  high  and  low,  rich  and  poor,  were  soldiers  in  the 
broad  field  together.  The  fair,  bright  brow  of  many  a  mo- 
ther's only  son  was  crisped  in  the  toilsome  march  to  stTUg- 
gle  for  a  phantom  which  they  called  liberty  !  The  result  of 
this  infatuation  was  a  tide  of  resistance,  unquenchable  as 
the  life  bounding  in  those  young  veins  like  the  current  of 
some  inspiration,  and  a  purpose  that  meant  victory,  suc- 
cess, but  was  only — death. 

All  through  that  long  sunny  summer  we  waited,  for  what  ? 


THE  MONTANA S.  209 

We  scarcely  knew ;  listeinng  to  tlie  rattle  of  musketry  and 
the  tramp  of  soldiers  on  drill.  We  often  drove  down  to 
see  the  Crescent  Guard,  with  their  gay  uniform,  go  throuo"h 
the  manual  of  arms.  There  was  such  buoyancy  in  each 
young  face,  and  jests  passed  carelessly  from  lip  to  lip.  Ah  ! 
of  that  body  of  men  how  few  have  lived  to  tell  the  story  of 
those  days  !  Swiftly,  to  rise  no  more,  they  fell  beneath  the 
fire  from  battalions  of  the  enemy  ;  but  they  fought  like 
men — brave  men,  who  cared  not  for  life  when  weio-hed 
against  a  purpose  that  was  stronger. 

I  have  since  heard  jeering  lips  scout  the  idea  of  Southern 
men,  not  inured  to  toil,  being  able  to  fight  the  long  battle 
to  its  close.  Horace  Greeley,  I  remember,  talked  eloquently 
about  "  crushing  the  rebellion  with  a  blow."  But  gradu- 
ally that  kind  of  thing  has  ceased  to  be,  since  we  have 
learned  the  characters  of  the  men  with  whom  we  war, 
and  come  to  recognise  in  the  Southern  heart  an  attribute 
that  fearlessly  counts  no  cost,  no  sacrifice,  unworthy  the 
cause  in  which  their  energies  were  embarked — which  meant 
resistance  to  the  bitter  end. 

In  late  autumn  came  a  letter  from  Clyde,  the  first  syl- 
lable he  had  addressed  to  me  since  his  departure.  He 
stated  briefiy  his  views  with  regard  to  the  war ;  expressed 
an  opinion  that  the  country  would  be  invaded,  and  it  would 
be  better  for  us  to  go  North  to  remain  permanently  until 
the  thing  was  settled.  This  we  decided  to  do,  and  had  our 
arrangements  completed  when  he  came  home. 

We  sat,  Stanley  and  I,  in  the  summer-house,  talking  of 
many  things ;  of  that  past  through  which  my  bright  river 
ran — of  the  solitary  ship  amid  ocean  tides — lastly,  of  our 
city  circle,  so  changed  and  broken.  There  was  a  tempest 
in  the  social  atmosphere,  whose  rain  fell  in  blood-drops  on 
the  earth — whose  fury  was  sweeping  a  generation  of  human 


210  THE  MONTAN^AS. 

beings  to  their  last  account,  when  Clyde  Ingram  came  and 
stood  silently  before  us. 

I  should  have  risen  to  give  him  my  hand,  as  my  heart 
had  risen  to  greet  him,  but  there  was  neither  trust  nor  hope 
in  the  strangle  calmness  of  his  manner — the  look  on  his  stem 
face.  The  hard  lines  about  his  compressed  lips  softened 
not  for  an  instant,  while  Stanley  plied  many  inquiries  con- 
cerning where  and  how  he  had  been,  and  why  he  had  re- 
mained away  without  writing  us  one  word. 

"  Oh  !  I  thought  you  would  not  care  to  have  letters  from 
me  ;  there  was  nothing  to  interest  you  in  the  details  of  my 
life  as  passed  in  those  forest  wilds  ;  I  considered  the  most 
charitable  thing  would  be  to  allow  you  a  respite  from  my  un- 
willing persecution.  I  should  not  now  be  home  but  for  the 
fact  that  my  country  needs  me.  On  the  first  intimation  of 
her  involved  state,  I  left  Australia  with  the  intention  of 
offering  my  poor  service  in  this  hour  of  her  peril.  I  felt  I 
had  no  riofht  to  T\4thhold  the  little  I  could  do." 

My  heart  leaped  into  my  throat;  the  decision  for  my 
future  was  here  and  now.  I  asked  the  question  cautiously, 
vainly  endeavoring  to  still  the  throbbings  of  heart  and  brain 
as  I  awaited  his  answer,  which  came  slowly  and  solemnly.  ■ 

"The  die  is  cast,  Aljean,  without  wish  or  will  of  mine; 
this  armed  resistance  to  the  Government  seems  a  rash  pro- 
ceeding !  but  the  present  administration  is  at  war  with  our 
institutions.  I  am  no  man,  no  Southern  man,  if  I  give  not 
to  the  section  in  which  my  lot  is  cast,  the  work  my  hands 
can  do  for  the  South.  Had  I  been  a  member  of  Congress, 
my  sense  of  justice  would  have  led  me  to  occupy  that  place 
until  the  trial  season  was  over.  Placing  ourselves  in  a  defi- 
ant attitude — assuming  the  offensive,  was,  I  repeat,  a  rash 
act,  and  furnished  a  pretext  for  many  aggressions  on  the 
part  of  the  federal  authorities  since.     God  knows  I  love  my 


*  THE  MONTAKAS.  211 

country,  its  starry  flag  and  constitution,  but  I  cannot  turn 
traitor  to  the  South — my  section :  see  her  bleeding  at 
every  pore  of  her  haughty  heart,  yet  raise  no  hand  to  help 
her.  I  cannot  join  with  those  who  would  desolate  her; 
my  all  is  here.  I  must  preserve  that — my  property,  if 
possible,  from  utter  ruin." 

Stanley  spoke  what  she  felt  vehemently.  "  Oh,  Clyde  ! 
for  God's  and  country's  sake,  take  no  stand  while  patriotism 
and  conscience  are  thus  dissevered.  Remember,  if  your  pro- 
perty were  gained,  would  it  not  be  worthless  if  you  sacrificed 
principle  in  the  effort  to  retain  it  ?  Your  heart,  my  brother, 
is  not  with  those  who  have  trampled  under  foot  the  Consti- 
tution and  the  old  banner ;  then  do  not  identify  yourself  with 
such  !  Come  out  from  among  them ;  take  no  part  in  the 
weary  struggle !  wait  for  the  issue  ;  God  holds  the  balance  ; 
give  not  your  life  to  assist  in  turning  it  one  way  or  another." 

"  Stanley,  my  more  than  sister,  you  talk  just  like  a 
woman !  you  do  not  seem  to  realize  there  can  be  no  such 
position  while  we  stand  beside  the  seething  caldron  and  see 
the  fires  are  glowing.  I  must  go  in  one  direction  or  the 
other ;  after  all,  it  makes  little  difference  the  position  one 
occupies  in  this  diabolical  business.  I  hold  that  all  war  is 
wrong!  God  never  intended  that  generations  of  human 
beings  should  murder  one  another,  after  the  fashion  of  our 
doing.  The  glorious  insignia  of  freedom  and  liberty  are 
dimmed  by  the  breath  of  ambition  and  party  strife.  We 
were  growing  too  prosperous  as  a  nation  !  this  is  our  chas- 
tening !  We  had  reached  the  climax  of  civilized  arro- 
gance ;  we  are  culminating  towards  barbarism." 

Stanley  again  remarked — 

"  It  occurs  to  me  civilization  is  a  mythical  term  of  sectional 
strife  and  hatred  in  these  days  of  miserable  bicker- 
ings." 


212  THE  MONTANA  S. 

"  True !  it  is  a  hateful  age !  As  for  myself  I  do  not 
live  in  it.  I  have  broken  all  bonds  of  companionship  with 
those  who  do ;  have  eschewed  its  petty  commonplaces 
and  requisitions;  have  learned  to  live  above  everything 
except  its  sufferings  and  desolateness." 

I  looked  at  him ;  the  pallor  on  his  face  had  given  place 
to  a  glow  of  excitement  which  quickly  paled  and  blanched, 
as  do  our  blush  roses  in  autumn.  I  saw  burninor  in  his 
eyes  the  great  fires  of  genius,  grand  and  immortal  as 
his  own  soul.  For  this  choice  spirit  was  there  only  a  lonely 
way,  a  constant  reaching  after  companionship  with  a  mind 
from  which  had  been  purged  the  drosses  of  every-day 
existence,  one  who  could  look  upon  its  weird,  distorted  facts, 
carped  and  misshapen  as  they  were,  from  the  stand-point 
of  a  judgment  coupled  with  foresight :  a  sense  of  justice 
that  was  far  above  all  petty  estimates  and  demands.  He 
sat  looking  so  grandly  self-poised  and  self-centred,  he  did 
not  need  me ;  how  could  I  approach  him  as  he  sat  up  among 
the  stars — far,  far  above  me,  while  he  did  the  work  of  life  in 
harness,  struggling  with  the  fetters  he  could  not  wear  and 
could  not  break.  My  heart  waited  a  long  time  in  silence 
in  the  dust  at  his  feet,  then  the  words — Oh  !  Clyde,  how  we 
missed  you — were  forming  on  my  lips  when  Milverton  ex- 
claimed at  the  entrance  to  our  arbor  : 

"  Upon  my  word,  ladies,  this  is  too  much  for  even  an 
amiable  bachelor  like  myself  to  bear  tamely  !  Just  think  of 
my  having  wandered  about  these  grounds  like  a  disembodied 
spirit,  in  search  of  these  two  young  ladies  since  tea-time; 
now  at  last  I  find  them  holding  a  clandestine  conference 
with  you.  By  the  way,  notwithstanding  an  overwhelming 
sense  of  personal  wrong  in  which  you  are  involved  with 
them  to  your  discredit,  I  will  say  I  am  glad  to  see  you ! 
Welcome  home,  old  fellow,  I  am  glad  to  see  you  back ;  when 


THE  MOXTANAS.  213 

did  you  arrive  in  the  city,  and  how  long  do  you  purpose 
remaining;?" 

"  I  came  two  hours  ago ;  I  shall  stay  until  I  am-  ordered 
to  depart  with  a  regiment,  the  command  of  which  has 
been  tendered  to  me,  now  forming  under  the  auspices  of 
Lieutenant-Colonel  Austin  at  Brio-htland.  As  reo-ards  the 
young  ladies,  having  less  claim  upon  their  attention 
and  courtesy  than  your  more  ^fortunate  self,  I  will  resign 
them  to  your  charge  until  I  have  seen  my  mother."  So 
saying,  he  arose  to  depart,  but  was  prevented  by  Mil- 
verton. 

"  Oh !  I  beg  your  pardon,  Ingram,  I  shall  not  be  so  un- 
generous as  to  claim  both ;  I  will  not  play  Shyloch  in  return 
for  your  liberality.  If  Miss  Stanley  will  favor  me  with  her 
society,  I  will  ask  nothing  more." 

Clyde  bowed  and  led  me  from  the  summer-house,  into  the 
night  brightened  by  moon  and  stars,  along  the  old  familiar 
paths.  I  could  feel  his  heart  throb  against  my  arm,  though 
even  in  our  home  ways  reigned  the  old  silence  which  I  could 
not  break.  Strange,  I  had  resolved  to  say  a  thousand  things 
to  Clyde  when  he  came  home  about  the  terrible  mistake  I 
had  made.  I  meant  to  tell  him,  without  his  asking,  that  I 
did  love  him  dearly  and  had  loved  him  long;  that  my 
coldness  and  caprice  were  assumed  to  disguise  the  truth, 
because  I  thought  he  loved  Stanley.  I  imagined  it  would 
be  an  easv  matter  to  tell  him  these  thino-s,  but  it  was  not 
so.    I  waited  silently  until  he  spoke  tremulously. 

"Will  you  teU  me  of  what  you  were  thinking,  Aljean?" 
I  started,  endeavoring  so  to  do,  but  only  succeeded  in  blush- 
ing quietly  instead.  Then  his  eyes  wandered  again  to  the 
starry  avenues,  as  though  my  reply — even  if  I  succeeded  in 
making  one — would  affect  him  very  little,  and  was  some- 
thing he  had  no  right  to  expect.     His  aspect  aroused  my 


214  THE  MONTANAS. 

pride,  then  enabled  me  to  answer,  though  somewhat  con- 
strainedly and  coldly : 

"I  was  thinking  of  Brightland — quamt  and  old,  hal- 
lowed by  such  thronging  memories,  yet  desecrated  by 
the  tread  of  unhallowed  feet!  of  the  tri-colored  banner 
floating  there ;  coarse  jests  and  oaths  breaking  the  silence 
of  other  days.  I  am  glad  we  are  going  North.  I  could  not 
bear  to  remain  here  a  witness  to  the  enactment  of  such 
scenes." 

"  Even  if  you  stayed,  you  would  not  be  pained  by  them 
long,"  he  said  gently — very  gently.  I  was  ready  to  die  of 
shame  at  my  petty  outburst  of  an  anger  I  did  not  really 
feel.  I  hated  myself  for  lodng  him,  as  he  was  so  far  above 
me  that  even  harsh  words  of  mine  had  no  power  to  touch 
him.  I  wanted  to  retort,  and  should  have  done  so  but  for 
that  calm,  unapproachable  look  on  his  face,  which  said — If 
kind  words  never  come  from  you  I  can  at  least  shut  my 
heart  against  those  that  are  not  so ;  they  shall  have  no 
power  to  sway  me. 

I  went  into  the  house  to  prepare  Aunt  Edith  for  this 
surprise,  leaving  Clyde  to  follow.  When  I  had  informed 
her  of  her  son's  arrival  and  calmed  her  agitation,  I  sent 
Hawsey  with  a  message  to  that  effect ;  when  he  came  in 
I  withdrew  to  the  veranda,  leaving  them  alone.  I  saw  a 
carriage  coming  up  the  lighted  avenue,  then  heard  gay 
voices  ask  a  ser^'ant  if  the  ladies  were  at  home.  I  arose, 
went  to  my  room  to  smoothe  my  hair.  I  paused  a  moment 
at  Aunt  Edith's  door  as  I  was  going  to  the  parlor.  The 
scene  in  that  apartment  was  too  holy  to  be  intruded  upon. 
A  strong  man  kneeling  reverently,  his  face  fiill  of  tender- 
ness, beside  his  mother,  chafing  her  hands,  telling  her  the 
things  long  pent  up  in  his  heart.  Miss  Phoebe's  needles 
pUed  the  task  a  little  more  reluctantly,  for  upon  their  bright- 


THE  MONTANA  S.  215 

ness  was  the  mist  of  human  tears,  though  no  one  saw  them 
fall  upon  that  night  of  our  last  reunion.  Aunt  Edith's  voice 
was  very  sad  and  sorrow-burdened,  though  very  gentle. 
"  Why  have  you  left  me  so  long,  my  darling  boy  ?" 
"  I  went  because  I  could  not  stay.  The  why  and  where- 
fore of  this  fact  is  a  secret  which  only  God  and  my  own 
heart  know.  I  have  never  told  it  to  mortal,  because  there 
was  no  one  to  hear  it ;  therefore  I  went,  that  I  might  keep 
it  to  myself." 

"  And  will  you  really  go  into  the  army,  my  son  ?" 
"Yes,  mother,  I  shall  go ;  my  regiment  is  being  equipped 

and  armed ;    and  I  must"  he  paused  suddenly  !   a 

spasm  of  agony  convulsed  Aunt  Edith's  haggard  face.  I 
came  forward  here,  sending  Hawsey  to  find  Stanley  and 
inform  her  she  wa^  expected  in  the  parlor,  and  took  her  place 
at  Aunt  Edith's  side.  Still  I  heard  the  gay  voices  below  ! 
how  strange  sounded  the  hum  of  their  light  talk  while  we 
listened,  Clyde  and  I,  to  Aunt  Edith's  recital,  which  was 
very  sad.  I  will  only  give  the  reader  a  portion  of  what 
she  said  that  last  night : 

"  My  parents  opposed  bitterly  my  union  with  your  father, 
Clyde,  though  I  married  him  notwithstanding,  because  I 
wanted  to  come  away  from  what  had  been  to  me  the  scene 
and  season  of  a  trying  sorrow.  They  would  never  have 
consented  either  to  my  marriage  with  the  only  man  I  ever 
truly  loved,  because  of  some  misconduct  on  the  part  of  his 
sister.  It  was  very  hard  for  us  both  !  He,  too,  suffered,  if 
possible,  more  than  I ;  though  on  account  of  the  shame*  in 
which  the  affair  involved  him  he  was  too  proud  to  suppli- 
cate for  my  hand ;  neither  would  he  tempt  me  to  disobey 
them  and  marry  against  their  will.  Never,  my  children, 
hold  any  human  being  accountable  for  the  sin  or  wrong- 
doing of  another — even  though  that  other  be  a  near  ftiend 


216  THE  MO  NT  AN  AS. 

or  relative ;  it  is  cruel  to  make  them  responsible  for  what 
they  cannot  help.  Mr.  Ingram  came  North  with  his  little 
son  who  was  then  but  a  few  months  old,  in  charge  of  Miss 
Phoebe.  I  met  him  by  accident ;  he  courted  me.  I  ac- 
cepted him  for  the  reason  I  have  told  you ;  though  my 
father  entreated  me  earnestly  not  to  do  so. 

"  '  That  little  boy,'  said  he,  '  will  never  requite  your  care  of 
him  ;  one's  own  children  rarely  do  that ;  he  will  do  less.'  It 
so  happened,  providentially  perhaps,  we  had  no  children 
of  our  own.  When  your  father  died  he  gave  you  into  my 
charge.  The  man  whom  I  had  so  loved,  I  heard  was  happily 
married  to  a  noble  woman,  and  living  in  the  region  of  my 
old  home.  I  did  not  wish  to  return  there ;  neither  did  I 
wish  to  assume  the  management  of  these  estates  during  your 
minority.  Accordingly  I  appointed  Mr.  Kingswell  guard- 
ian to  you ;  for  the  sake  of  our  past  he  accepted  the  charge, 
and  retained  it  even  when  I  married  Mr.  Montana,  to  whom 
I  committed  your  property  in  trust.  You  owe  much  to  the 
kind  guardianship  of  both  these  men ;  they  are  good  and 
true  men. 

"  Do  not  misunderstand  me,  my  son,  I  am  not  heartless ; 
though  I  did  not  love  your  father,  I  venerated  him  for  his 
integrity  and  high  principle ;  we  were  mutually  kind  and 
happy  in  our  brief  union.  The  father  of  my  children  I  also 
respect  and  esteem ;  but  all  the  love  of  my  heart  was  given 
away  before  the  duties  of  wife  and  mother  came  to  me. 
Somehow,  all  the  pent  up  current  of  tenderness  flowed  out  to 
you ;  I  would  have  given  you  since  the  most  precious  boon 
in  my  keeping,  my  child,  my  Stanley ;  but  you  could  not 
love  each  other,  it  seemed,  and  I  guess  it  was  not  to  be.  This 
disappointment  I  bore  silently,  though  my  heart  was  set 
on  having  you  my  own  as  long  as  I  lived.  But  I  cannot 
bear  tamely  that  your  hand  should  be  raised  against  my 


THE  MONTANAS.  2 1 7 

son.  Mr.  Montana  always  loved  best  his  own  land.  Ray- 
mond has  inherited  his  father's  preference.  I  think  he  will 
be  with  the  government,  right  or  wrong ;  as  it  is  just  that 
he  should  be. 

"Claremont  is  yours!  We  remain  here  only  at  your 
option ;  once  you  take  the  position  you  have  accepted  in 
earnest,  it  becomes  imperative  that  you  should'send  us  away 
beyond  the  lines.  Xow,  my  son,  does  it  seem  to  you  right 
that  I,  a  broken-hearted  woman,  should  suffer  thus  by  the 
voluntary  act  of  a  child  whom  I  have  most  loved  and  che- 
rished ?  And  that  he  in  the  days  of  her  infirmity  should 
place  himself  in  an  attitude  where  it  will  be  impossible  to 
afford  her  home  and  shelter  ?  As  for  myself,  I  shall  not 
need  it  long ;  but  for  Stanley  and  Jennie,  my  daughters, 
have  I  asked  even  this  vainly  of  you,  Clyde,  who  was  ever 
before  so  kind  to  us  all  ?" 

"  Mother,  you  really  tax  and  try  me  very  much  indeed. 
I  owe  everything  I  possess,  and  more,  to  yourself  and  Mr. 
Kingswell ;  besides  honor,  respect,  and  love,  which  I  feel  I 
have  given  to  the  uttermost.  As  regards  my  real  estate, 
including  Claremont  and  Brightland,  it  is  yours ;  it  is  to 
defend  these  for  the  sake  of  yourself  and  your  children, 
against  those  who  would  desolate  them,  I  stand  where  I 
do — an  enemy  to  country  and  government ! 

"  I  am  not  responsible  for  Raymond's  position  any  more 
than  for  my  own.  As  regards  your  remaining  here,  mother, 
I  am  anxious  to  have  you  do  so ;  though  with  your  present 
proclivities  that  would  soon  become  impossible ;  besides,  it 
would  Qot  be  pleasant  in  the  event  of  an  invasion,  which 
we  have  reason  to  fear  and  to  anticipate.  I  shall  not  meet 
Raymond  in  the  field;  we  neither  of  us  know,  certainly, 
that  he  will  go  into  the  army  ;  though  even  with  the  cer- 
tainty that  I  should  meet  him  face  to  face,  yet  would  I  not 

10 


2 1 8  TEE  MONTANA  S. 

fail  in  doing  what  I  feel  to  be  my  duty  in  the  matter."  He 
bowed  his  head  upon  his  hands,  and  wept!  In  all  our 
lives  toa:ether,  I  had  never  seen  hira  thus  moved.  lie  was 
a  child  still  in  his  feeling  for  her  who  had  been  a  mother 
to  us  two,  who  were  orphans.  Clyde  Ingram  stood  not 
now  among  the  stars  above  me !  By  nature,  he  was  not 
cold,  but  tender  and  gentle  as  a  woman. 

"  Oh  !  my  children,  I  have  lived  too  long !  IIow  can  I 
bear  this  last  great  agony  !  "  It  was,  indeed,  very  hard  to 
bear,  though  many  women  have  borne  this  and  more — 
their  hearts  lying  in  the  dust  beneath  the  grinding  wheel 
of  Revolution ;  awaiting  the  Almighty  hand  which  alone 
can  raise  them  up  ! 

Miss  Phoebe  motioned  us  to  leave  the  room;  Clyde 
stepped  into  the  veranda.  I  followed  him  tremblingly, 
for  I  had  begun  to  realize  there  could  be  no  wavering  in 
his  course  now  ;  upon  the  only  ground  which  appeared 
tenable,  I  resolved  to  stand  by  him  even  to  the  last  issue. 
He  seemed  to  possess  an  innate  recognition  of  my  deter- 
mination, for  he  took  both  my  hands  in  his,  saying  very 
tenderly : 

"  Did  you  come  to  comfort  me,  Jennie  ?  I  have  far  more 
need  of  it  than  ever  before  ;  I  am  so  weary  !  Oh  !  if  you 
could  only  have  found  for  me  a  resting-place  in  that  great 
heart  of  yours,  I  should  not  feel  so  utterly  alone  and  deso- 
late in  my  sorrow  now.  Why  could  you  not  love  me, 
Jennie,  when  I  have  loved  you  always  so  dearly,  even 
though  you  would  never  let  me  tell  you  so." 

Gracious  heavens !  the  sky  had  unfurled  banners  of  broad 
brio-ht  blue  !  The  niorht  was  ended,  perfect  day  had  burst 
upon  us.  There  was  no  lonely  sea  with  the  solitary  ship 
ploughing  through  its  watery  heart ;  only  the  music  of  my 
brio-ht  river  as  it  bore  down  from  the  first  days  of  this 


THE  MONTANAS.  219 

hope !  I  saw  no  crimson  tides  staining  its  current  in  the 
morning  of  the  new  existence  into  which  I  had  suddenly- 
been  launched.  This  sensation,  however,  was  only  momen- 
tary ;  when  I  raised  my  eyes  to  heaven,  I  saw  the  stars 
burning  dimly,  and  the  moonbeams  fell  with  a  cold  flicker 
that  was  strangely  unreal,  though  I  scarce  noticed  these 
in  my  eagerness  to  tell  him  all ;  nothing  should  keep  the 
knowledge  from  him  now  !     I  commenced,  excitedly  : 

"  Clyde,  for  long  years  I  have," 1  heard  some  one 

speak  my  name !  I  turned  as  Retta  Austin  came  upon 
the  veranda  in  search  of  me.  She  bore  a  summons  for  us 
to  the  parlor.  We  could  make  no  reasonable  excuse  for 
failing  to  comply,  so  she  remained  with  us  until  we  joined 
our  friends  below.  Neither  upon  this  occasion  were  spoken 
words  of  explanation  that  might  have  made  us  happy  I  or 
at  least  have  saved  us  from  days  and  nights  of  pain  that 
followed. 


CHAPTER  XY. 

•*  Easier  vrere  it  to  force  the  rooted  mountain  from  its  base, 
Than  force  the  yoke  of  slavery  on  men  determined  to  be  free  1 " 

SOIJTHEY. 

There  was  a  gay  company  assembled  in  the  drawing-room ; 
how  handsome  Clyde  was !  How  princely  he  appeared 
besider  the  flippant  young  men  whose  thoughts  ranged  no 
higher  than  the  badges  worn  to  designate  their  respective 
ranks.  There  was  Ella  Soule,  Lane,  and  Gerald  Austin, 
with  their  sister  Miss  Retta ;  who,  as  usual,  commenced  her 
garrulous  tirade  the  moment  we  entered  the  room. 

"  We  have  not  seen  you  for  an  age ;  Colonel  Ingram — 


220  THE  MONTANAS. 

how  kind  of  you  to  refresh  us  with  one  first,  last  sight  of 
your  handsome  face  before  going  into  the  field.  The  first 
glimpse,  as  I  said  before,  for  an  age  !  The  last,  perhaps  for 
ever !  Jennie,  you  are  not  too  much  of  a  Yankee,  I  trust, 
to  admit  that  he  is  looking  magnificently  in  his  uniform — 
grey  with  scarlet  trimmings,"  she  added,  turning  to  me. 

"  My  opinion  would  afi*ect  him  very  little ;  he  is  not  the 
least  vain  of  his  rank,  and  would  prefer  waiting  until  he 
has  earned" 

— "  Hanging  at  the  hands  of  the  Federal  authorities,"  sug- 
gested Milverton  mischievously,  concluding  my  sentence 
in  a  manner  entirely  foreign  to  the  original  design.  "  Your 
pardon.  Miss  Jennie ;  be  kind  enough  to  conclude  your 
speech,  for  the  benefit  of  all.     *  Until  he  has  earned  '  " 

"  The  appellation  of  Colonel.  ^ATien  I  lived  North,  it 
was  not  our  fashion  to  deny  to  any  indi^ddual  a  distinction 
to  which  his  conduct  entitles  him,  even  if  that  be  the 
one  which  Mr.  Milverton  supplied ;  though  I  sincerely  hope 
the  last  named  dignity  may  be  conferred  upon  those  better 
fitted  to  sustain  and  enjoy  it.  I  should  really  feel  sorry 
were  I  expected  to  designate  all  my  old  friends  by  some 
military  title ;  though  this  war  now  pending  is  a  fortunate 
circumstance  for  men  who  before  in  the  social  status  were 
decidedly  below  par  !  " 

*'  For  examples.  Lane  and  Gerald,"  suggested  Retta  ma- 
liciously. "  Ella  and  I  drove  out  to  Brightland  one  after- 
noon to  see  the  regiment  drill ;  it  did  splendidly ;  though 
if  our  embryo  heroes  would  only  forget  their  dignity  when 
off  duty !  Our  young  men  have  inaugurated  a  system  of 
drilling  and  attitudinizing  before  the  parlor  mirrors.  You 
should  see  them,  Jennie  ;  it  would  amuse  you  infinitely." 

"  Ah,  poor  fellows ! "  Milverton  said,  with  patronizing 
pity  in  his  tones.     "  Once  in  the  field  there  will  be  little 


THE  MONTAKAS.  221 

leisure  for  that  sort  of  amusement.  Perhaps  the  Yankees 
will  cure  them  of  vanity,  by  depri\dng  them  of  these  little 
luxuries.  One  or  two  hard  rubs  will  take  the  polish  from 
their  idea  of  the  service ;  the  time  they  were  wont  to  be- 
stow upon  their  mustachios  they  will  learn  to  devote  to 
their  fire-arms.  Life  at  a  post,  in  quarters,  is  delightful  pas- 
time; more  charming  than  lying  down  to  sleep,  after  a 
supper  on  hard-tack  and  bacon,  with  the  enemy's  shells 
bursting  in  your  camp,  setting  fire  to  your  commissary  stores, 
and  pirouetting  gracefally  about  your  ears.  The  Yankees 
are  reserving  for  you  petted  sons  of  wealth  many  of  these 
delightful  entertainments." 

"I  am  sure  they  are  welcome,  and  will  get  value  received 
for  all  the  favors  they  choose  to  confer,"  Gerald  answered 
pettishly,  his  black  eyes  flashing  defiant  fire.  "  I  am  long- 
ing to  show  them  of  what  material  our  Southern  army  is 
composed;  and  to  teach  those  who  talk  enthusiastically 
about  crushing  the  rebellion,  as  though  it  were  the  easiest 
thing  in  the  world  accomplished,  that  there  are  human 
hearts  piled  up;  these  are  its  bulwarks  of  strength;  let 
them  try,  they  will  feel  constrained  to  charge  their  abolition 
President  a  pretty  extravagant  price  for  the  task  before  it 
is  complete.  We  will  see  that  he  pays  it.  You  may  ex- 
pect to  hear  glorious  accounts  of  us  soon ;  true,  as  they 
plead,  we  are  unaccustomed  to  hardships ;  our  men  were 
not  raised  to  the  profession  of  arms ;  but  we  can  fight  if 
necessary.  We  are  ready  and  willing  to  do  what  we  can  ; 
our  allegiance  and  service  are  free  as  air  ;  we  can  set  no  price 
on  these,  for  our  hearts  are  in  the  work.  For  a  cause  so 
glorious  we  are  ready  to  sacrifice  any  and  everything ! " 

It  was  on  my  lips  to  ask  "  what  cause?  "  but  a  glance  at 
Clyde's  calm  white  face  prevented  me.     Retta  spoke  instead : 

"  Were  I  Lane  and  yourself  I  should  reserve  my  boasting 


222  THE  MOKTANAS. 

until  the  close  of  the   war ;  it  is  much  easier  to  anticipate 
results  than  to  face  causes  and  work  them  out ! " 

"More  especially  such  piercing  causes  as  the  enemy's 
bullets  may  chance  to  prove,"  suggested  Clyde.  "  I  agree 
with  Miss  Retta  and  the  great  poet,  who  bids  us — 

' "  Learn  to  labor  and  to  wait." 

Wait !  for  how  long  ?  Until  the  war  is  over ;  until  the 
seceded  States  are  subjugated;  until  that  high  wall  of  living, 
throbbing  human  hearts  is  battered  down  ?  Ah,  what  then 
would  they  do  with  an  unloving  people  ?  Unloving  they 
were  in  all  that  Southern  land ;  for  long  months  I  had  heard 
no  voice  upraised  for  our  country's  constitution  and  her 
flag;  the  blood-bought  banner  that  had . sheltered  and  pro- 
tected them  by  land  and  sea  for  prosperous  years.  And 
those  too  were  silent  whose  fathers  had  fouo-ht  for  it  once, 
I  could  look  out  from  the  parlor  window  and  behold  the 
site  of  a  battle-ground  where  it  was  planted  January  8th, 
1812.  But  they  had  torn  it  down,  and  trampled  upon  its 
constellations ;  had  come  out  from  its  shining  folds ;  and 
now  talked  of  stabbing  the  Government,  as  though  they 
were  really  doing  the  age  and  the  country  a  service.  Even 
the  voice  of  my  love  was  stilled  in  the  sense  of  double, 
treble  crime,  the  expressions  of  which  I  heard  almost  con- 
stantly.    I  could  only  await  the  momentous  crisis. 

I  said  there  was  no  voice  upraised  for  the  old  flag.  Ah, 
there  was  one ;  over  weary  miles  it  came ;  like  the  chime  of 
silver  bells  the  tones  rang  out  upon  this  night  of  treason. 
Lane  Austin  said : 

"  Well,  Colonel,  at  your  solicitation  I  wrote  to  my  friend 
Raymond,  off"eriug  him  the  opportunity  of  filling  an  impor- 
tant vacancy  in  our  regiment.     You  shall  have  the  decision 


THE  MONTANAS.  223 

in  his  own  words.     I  will  read  an  extract  from  liis  letter  of 
recent  date  which  came  to-day : 

"  '  Say  to  my  brother  Clyde,  it  is  kind  of  him  to  consider 
me ;  even  though  I  cannot  for  an  instant  think  of  accepting 
it.  God  knows  how  deep  is  my  gTief  that  he  has  done  this 
thing.  Between  us  it  will  be  the  subject  of  recurrence 
frequent  of  pain  and  bitterness,  the  existence  of  which  was 
hitherto  unknown ;  it  will  build  a  ban'ier  that  may  be 
eternal,  for,  livdngf  cr  dvino;,  I  shall  never  falter  in  the  course 
which  I  hold  to  be  right,  and  I  hope  that  my  strong  right 
arm  may  become  palsied  the  instant  I  dare  to  lift  it  against 
the  old  flag.  Should  I  ever  fight,  so  help  me  Heaven,  in 
accordance  with  every  vaster  consideration,  I  will  leave  all, 
to  strike  for  God  and  for  country  under  its  stars.'' " 

For  an  instant,  still  as  the  grave  was  the  night  of  treason 
and  fierce  rebellion  that  had  closed  about  me !  Then  I  be- 
held something,  floating,  flaming  in  the  higher  air :  Ah !  it 
was  our  banner,  set  clear  in  the  unclouded  heaven,  held  by  a 
hio-her  hand  than  man's !  and  its  glorious  stars  were  shinino-, 
no  blight  upon  their  lustre,  no  dimness  in  the  folds  that 
held  them,  no  blood  or  blight  upon  the  strong  standard : 
but  a  white  wreath  of  victory  woven  from  the  crushed 
flowers  of  dead  brave  hearts,  who  nurtured  liberty  with 
their  last  drop  of  life  beneath  those  constellations  of  our 
country,  who  had  stood  and  fallen,  died  under  those  stars 
of  God's  and  the  nation's.  "Was  our  boy,  whose  words  came 
to  us  from  afar,  whose  radiance  beamed  around  us  every- 
where, of  all  their  glorious  brightness  the  one  solitary  Ray  ? 
Ah  !  in  the  light  of  morning,  in  the  clear  moon-times,  in  the 
darkness  of  succeeding  doubts,  that  flag  was  still  there, 
flaming  high  in  the  sky  of  my  heart !  try  as  T  would  I  could 
not  shut  my  eyes  against  it,  even  though  love,  stern  dictator, 
made  me  try.     Those  stars  upon  our  banner,  like  those  I 


224  THE  MONTANAS. 

bad  counted  in  the  heavens  that  bent  above  my  youth, 
seemed  constantly  peering  into  my  soul  to  see  if  the  old 
feeling  for  them  was  there.  Slowly  from  day  to  day  into 
that  self-same  heart  grew  the  conviction  that  fate  and 
country  had  set  their  final  seal  upon  the  vast,  immutable 
silences  that  were  in  it.  Perhaps  for  Clyde  or  for  me  death 
with  his  icy  fingers  might  unclasp  them,  but  now — wider 
and  wider  grew  the  space  between  us ;  further  and  further 
apart  our  lives  were  drifting.  Ah  !  should  we  two,  when 
the  battle  was  ended,  pass  over  the  silent  way,  and  at  the 
portals  of  God's  peace  stand  firm  together  to  part  no  more  ? 

It  was  a  relief  when  they  took  their  leave.  Clyde  Ingram 
should  carry  with  him  into  the  broad  field  no  knowledge 
of  my  love.  In  that  moment  of  bitterness  I  could  have  re- 
nounced him  for  ever ;  him  who  for  years  had  claimed  me 
silently,  and  I  had  loved  him  with  a  love  that  left  me  no 
words  to  tell  it.  Words  were  not  required  to  dissever  an 
unspoken  bond.  Thus  let  it  be,  was  the  fiat  of  my  heart; 
though  next  instant,  crushed  by  the  weight  of  its  own  re- 
solve, it  was  powerless  to  act  as  a  bird  within  bars. 

I  stood  upon  the  veranda  long  after  the  carriage  had 
passed  out  of  sight,  these  maddening  thoughts  filling  heart 
and  brain.  The  cold  night  breeze  came  up  pityingly  from 
the  distant  sea,  far  lying  bathed  in  shining  mist  beneath  moon 
and  stars.  It  was  the  same  picture  I  had  looked  on  in 
childhood  when  Clyde  was  by  my  side ;  now  he  was  far 
away  from  me  and  from  that  old  time.  I  heard  his  im- 
patient cough  on  the  veranda  above,  and  knew  that  he  too 
was  keeping  heart-'v^gil  over  a  dead  past.  Oh !  why  had 
these  legions  come  between  us  now  that  our  love  was  no 
longer  intangible  and  undefined?  I  went  to  my  chamber, 
but  not  to  sleep.  I  heard  Clyde  pacing  his.  How  long  I 
lay  there  I  know  not,  I  was  only  conscious  that  something 


THE  MONT  ANAS.  225 

great  and  momentous  was  happening.  I  heard  suppressed 
voices  speaking  quickly ;  then  a  light  footstep  crossed  the 
room,  and  Stanley  stood  beside  me  at  the  open  window ; 
there  was  a  cold  dew  upon  my  face,  and  mist  was  dripping 
from  my  hair. 

"  Oh !  Jennie,"  she  exclaimed,  "  do  you  not  know  mother 
is  dying?  come  to  her  quickly."  I  flew  with  Stanley  ex- 
citedly to  Aunt  Edith's  room.  Clyde  was  there  before  me, 
kneeling  just  as  he  had  done  early  in  the  evening.  There 
were  bright  crimson  stains  upon  the  snowy  counterpane, 
and  Miss  Phoebe  wiped  the  blood  drops  from  her  pale,  still 
lips.  It  was  thus  we  passed  the  night;  physician  and 
watchers  spoke  no  word  until  we  saw  that  she  slept  from 
utter  exhaustion;  then  we  saw  a  look  of  peace  come  over 
her  features !  there  was  a  rustle  as  of  angels'  wings  in  the 
air  about  us !  Aunt  Edith's  soul  had  crossed  the  blood- 
stained river  to  the  other  shore. 

It  was  a  quiet,  beautiful  death !  I  thought  of  another  death 
afar  back  in  the  years,  and  how  I,  a  child,  had  looked  out 
upon  the  stars  and  tried  to  count  them,  thougji  countless 
they  were  as  sands  upon  the  sea.  Oh !  stars  of  evening  in 
that  youth-time,  bright  and  glowing,  oh !  blighted  stars 
upon  our  flag,  and  thou  eternal  sea !  with  thoughts  of  this 
•pure  beautifal  death  coexisted  thoughts  of  thee.  Death! 
was  this  death  ?  ah !  yes,  it  came  to  us  with  our  first  gar- 
ments, and  shall  continue  unchanged  until  the  heavens  shall 
be  rolled  together  as  a  scroll !  Thank  God  for  death,  since 
through  death  comes  immortality.  Those  remembered 
words  came  to  me  with  a  pulse  of  promise  for  her  who  had 
crossed  the  crimson  current  that  was  coursing  through  our 
land.  I  thought  of  what  one  of  the  characters  in  Titan  had 
said  to  the  old  man  who  was  praying  under  a  gathering 
tempest,  though  he  knew  it  not.  • 

10* 


226  TEE  MONTANA S. 

"Pray  on,  thou  man  of  God,  to  the  all-gracious !  and  go 
to  sleep  before  the  storm  comes  on^  Thank  "  the  all-gracious," 
she  Nvas  spared  the  pain  of  seeing  her  home  with  its  flowers 
laid  waste  in  the  battle-storm  which  shook  all  homes  and 
hearts  to  their  centre.  Had  the  power  been  mine  to  charm 
that  mother  back  whose  life-task  in  this  world  was  ended, 
I  should  have  said  let  her  rest  in  peace,  which  is  denied  to 
us  as  a  nation  and  as  individuals.  What  a  change  in  our 
household  since  the  previous  evening !  Clyde  had  come 
back,  the  mother  was  gone !  a  few  fluttering  breaths  had 
passed,  a  heart  had  ceased  to  beat !  in  that  little  space  half 
the  world  seemed  to  have  changed  to  us.  Ah,  Death !  hadst 
thou  not  enough  to  slake  thy  unrelenting  thirst  upon  the 
gory  fields  outstretched  in  the  land? 

But  this  was  no  stem-faced  death ;  it  w^as  a  calm  \dsage, 
garnished  with  fair  sweet  flowers.  Many  who  loved  her 
came  with  soft  tread  and  lingered  by  the  sleeper,  until  one 
sorrowful  morning  she  was  taken  away  from  us,  and  then 
a  long  dark  file  wound  over  the  road  to  the  cemetery. 
From  her  magnificent  home  Aunt  Edith  had  gone  to  bide 
in  a  narrow  house,  such  as  the  wife  of  Captain  Bob  Eldridge, 
my  father  and  mother,  had  occupied  for  many  silent  years. 
Aunt  Dinah  came  up  to  arrange  and  close  up  the  vacant 
room.     She  held  m  her  hand  a  large  bunch  of  keys.  m 

"  I  wonder  who  will  take  care  of  these  now,"  she  said, 
piteously,  between  broken  sobs ;  "  old  miss  will  never  want 
em  enny  more — never,  enny  more." 

"  No,  no,"  I  answered  consolingly ;  "  there  are  no  locked 
doors  in  heaven.  Aunt  Dinah." 

"  Miss  Jennie,  do  you  blieve  dare  is  enny  slaves  in  dat 
heaven  where  missus  is  f  " 

'■^  Not  as  slaves  1  We  are  told  that  in  God's  kingdom 
there  is  neither  '  Jew  nor  Gentile — bond  or  free.'  " 


THE  MONTANAS.  221 

Next  mor.iing  it  was  arranged  tliat  the  family,  including 
Milverton  and  Miss  Phoebe,  should  go,  within  a  fortnight, 
to  Raymond's.  We  were  to  leave  Uncle  Montana,  with  the 
ser\^ants,  at  Claremont.  For  days  we  pleaded  to  be  permit- 
ted to  stay  in  the  house,  even  with  the  vacant  place  there — 
by  the  new-made  grave,  but  uncle  and  Clyde  were  deaf  to 
our  petitions.  Our  preparations  were  made  with  a  view  to 
procuring  passes  to  go  North,  which  we  succeeded  in  ob- 
taining with  much  difficulty.  Little  did  we  think,  on  taking 
leave,  how  many  weary  months  would  elapse  before  we  saw 
our  home  ascain.  We  had  bid  adieu  to  every  shrub  and 
tree ;  to  flowers,  fountains,  and  the  outstretched  sea-,  we 
had  taken  our  places  in  the  car  as  on  the  morning  of  our  first 
northward  journey  !  Now  there  was  no  mother  face  to  look 
a  last,  fond  farewell  through  the  gathering  space  !  she  was 
sleeping  as  the  storm  came  on.  AAHien  we  passed  Bright- 
land,  for  the  bitterness  and  sorrow  in  my  heart  I  could  not 
lift  my  eyes  to  see  the  Southern  banner  floating  there. 
Apart  and  gloomy  I  saw  a  solitary  figure  stand !  a  white 
kerchief  fluttered  for  an  instant  in  the  morning  air :  then 
the  distance  swiftly  widened,  and  I  began  keenly  to  realize 
all  that  I  w^as  doing.  Henceforth  Clyde  Ingram  was  my 
country's  enemy.  We  should  never,  never  meet  again  until, 
perchance,  we  should  stand  at  the  one  little  gate  when  all 
w^as  over ;  and  from  ways  that  were  many  and  wide, 
though  their  dust  was  stained  wdth  gore,  we  should  come  to 
bathe  our  souls  in  the  fountain  of  love  eternal. 

In  charge  of  Mr.  Milverton  we  got  on  well.  At  the  ex- 
piration of  the  fifth  day  three  black-robed  figures  took 
silently  their  places  at  Raymond's  board.  His  fair  wife  did 
the  honors  through  her  tears,  when  Ala  Ray  came  to  her, 
and  in  her  Uttle,  clear  tones  inquired  why  "  dandma  "  had 
not  come  with  us  ?     Then  w^e  aU  broke  down  and  wept — 


228  *  THE  MONTANA  S. 

not  more  for  the  dead  than  to  miss  Raymond  from  the  head 
of  his  usual  cheerful  table.  But  the  battles  of  our  country 
must  be  fought,  and  we  will  lay  no  cowardly,  poltroon  hearts 
upon  her  shrine  in  this  her  hour  of  straggle.  I  recalled 
Moore's  glorious  lines — 

"  Oh,  if  there  be  on  this  earthly  sphere — 
A  boon,  an  offering  heaven  holds  dear, 
'Tis  the  last  libation  Uberty  draws, 
From  a  heart  that  bleeds  and  breaks  in  her  cause." 

In  a  few  days  we  went  to  Ridgely.  Like  rain-drops  on 
thirsty  sands,  upon  our  bleeding  hearts  fell  Mr.  Kingswell's 
words  of  peace  and  promise.  Gradually  we  came  to  give 
Aunt  Edith  up,  and  learned  to  think  of  other  things  that 
were  needful  to  be  done  in  the  world's  work  before  us. 
Ala  Ray  was  to  us  a  perpetual  sunbeam  of  comfort.  Day 
by  day  she  was  growing  in  beauty  and  sweetness !  her 
angel  nature  expanding  like  a  rose  beneath  dew-kisses  of  an 
earthly  morning.  Never  rested  the  little  feet,  nor  seemed 
the  little  tongue  to  grow  weary  questioning  of  the  strange 
things  in  the  world  about  her.  Oh  !  how  we  loved  our 
little  darling !  In  our  idolatry  we  forgot  how  Aunt  Edith 
had  said,  "the  golden  gates  were  not  closed  against  Ala 
Ray." 

In  Milverton's  first  letter  after  his  return  to  New  York,  he 
spoke  of  the  Haynes — of  ha\ang  been  entertained  at  their 
house.  The  wife,  after  her  blonde  fashion,  was  inspiring 
her  usual  sensation  in  theu*  social  circle.  "  Hayne,"  he  re- 
marked, "is  magnificently  stately,  as  it  appears  to  him 
pleasurable  at  all  times  to  be."  I  did  not  show  the  letter 
to  Stanley  ;  I  inwardly  prayed  that  she  might  not  meet 
Warren  :  jtlst  now  her  cross  was  heavy  enough.  This  was 
scarcely  probable !  his  father  had  leased  his  summer  residence 


THE  MONTANAS.  229 

in  Waybum  :  there  was  no  reason  why  Warren  should  come 
down  there,  and  Stanley  would  probably  not  see  him,  even 
in  the  event  of  her  going  to  New  York.  Her  bloom  and 
light  airy  step  were  coming  back.  Youth  is  exuberant,  and 
cannot  be  wholly  extinguished :  we  gradually  rise  out  of 
ourselves  !  The  self  that  mourned  for  the  lost,  the  better 
portion  of  us,  may  dwell  regretfully  with  the  memory,  but 
there  is  hard  work  in  life  for  us  all !  and  necessity  compels 
us  to  come  out  from  the  shadow-land  of  grief  into  God's 
day.  jSTothing  will  so  speedily  dispel  the  cold  damps  of 
sorrow  from  our  lot  as  patient  duty-doing. 

I  was  attacked  with  a  malignant  fever  during  the  au- 
tumn. It  was  long  ere  the  crisis  came.  Then,  through 
days  of  convalescence,  I  lay  in  my  bed  at  Ridgely,  listen- 
ing in  fancy  to  the  bugle-blast  of  victory ;  but  the  thought 
brought  no  exultation,  for  I  knew  how  many  hearts  were 
bleeding — how  many  faces  growing  white  and  still  beneath 
the  blow  of  death  on  distant  battle-fields.  The  work  of 
the  revolution  had  beonin  in  earnest.     Letters  came  fre- 

o 

quently  from  Ra}Tnond,  always  cheerful,  hopeful  for  the 
final  issue.  But  no  word  from  that  other  hero,  nursed 
near  to  the  same  mother-heart,  who,  beneath  scorching 
suns,  toiled  on — to  what  end?     Let  the  future  answer. 

The  winter  came  and  passed — a  long,  cold,  northern 
winter.  We  thought  the  spring  would  never  come,-  but 
it  did,  at  length,  dotting  meadows  with  cowslips  and  dai- 
sies ;  and  the  suns  of  April  broke  gloriously  into  prisms 
of  brightness  over  the  far  Nevr  Hampshire  hill-tops  we 
loved  so  well.  We  had  begun  to  grow  accustomed  to  the 
old  void  in  home  and  heart,  though  Stanley  grew  restive 
as  the  summer  days  lengthened,  with  nothing  special  to 
occupy  her  time.  She  fonned  a  plan  for  taking  a  small 
school  in   the   suburbs   of    Waybum.      Uncle   Kingswell 


230  THE  MONTANA S. 

approved  her  project,  suggesting  that  it  should  be  an  inde- 
pendent school,  in  which  were  taught  only  the  higher 
branches.  lie  thought  it  would  prove  an  advantage  as 
well  as  a  diversion.  I  was  not  yet  suflScientiy  recovered 
to  assist  Stanley,  even  had  Raymond  sustained  her  in  her 
undertaking.  WTien  consulted  by  letter,  he  indignantly 
refused  to  allow  his  sister  to  do  anything  of  the  kind,  and 
was  actually  wounded  that  she  did  not  esteem  herself  as 
he  considered  her — entirely  removed  from  the  necessity  of 
exertion  for  her  support.  "What  cared  he  if  remittances 
from  New  Orleans  had  ceased  to  come  ?  We  could  remain 
at  Waybum  without  them,  until  communication  between 
the  sections  was  reestablished.  Stanley  appealed  to  her 
brother  a  second  time.     Her  letter  ran  thus : — 

"  My  Dear  Ray  :  It  is  not  that  I  feel  myself  an  incum- 
brance to  you ;  it  is  because  Miss  Phcebe  and  myself — 
since  we  must  remain  here — want  a  little  home  of  our  own. 
Jennie  will  remain  with  Mary.  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Kings  well 
approve  my  plan,  and  will  help  me  to  execute  it.  Now, 
give  me  your  sanction,  and  I  will  be  far  happier  than  I 
have  been  since  our  dear  mother  died." 

Ray  could  not  resist  her  pleadings ;  and  so  the  month 
of  the  roses  found  Stanley  at  work  wdth  her  school.  She 
and  Miss  Phoebe  had  gone  to  live  at  the  cottage  in  which 
my  parents  died.  Mr.  Kingswell  himself  had  purchased 
the  property  when  the  formal  sale  came  off,  whose  man- 
agement was  wholly  intrusted  to  him. 

AVith  a  heart  of  poetry  within,  into  what  softened  curves 
of  grace  and  beauty  grew  the  rough  angles  of  that  cottage 
home !  Everywhere  was  visible  the  magic  effect  of  Miss 
Phoebe's  cleanliness,  Stanley's  flowers  and  perfume.     "We 


THE  MONTANAS.  231 

had  some  delightful  reunions  within  those  walls,  when  Ray- 
mond came  home  on  his  first  leave,  looking  so  handsome 
in  his  uniform  of  reo-al  blue. 

o 

About  this  time,  I  received  a  letter  fi'om  Ella  Soule, 
which  filled  me  with  secret  anxiety.  She  had  sent  the 
letter  through  by  hand ;  one  paragraph  contained  a  sneer- 
ing taunt  that  was  entirely  unnecessary : — 

"  How  should  you  like  to  see  Claremont,  Aljean,  since  it 
has  been  transformed  into  barracks  for  Yankee  soldiers  ? 
I  have  grown  to  hate  the  very  sight  of  a  blue-coat  recently." 

She  went  on  to  tell  me  many  sad  things  of  the  sufibrings 
of  friends,  but  nothing  troubled  me  like  this.  To  think  of 
strange  feet  trampling  down  the  flowers  in  our  home,  where 
a  sainted  mother's  footfalls  yet  lingered ;  its  groves  de- 
spoiled by  the  profaning  touch  of  a  lawless  soldiery.;  the 
trail  of  their  devastation  within  those  sacred  precincts! 
I  think  if  any  one  could  bear  patiently  a  reflection  of  this 
natm-e,  he  is  possessed  of  more  patriotism  than  I  can 
boast  of.  Stanley  was  wise  in  acting  for  herself;  we  were 
worse  than  penniless.  She  toiled  on,  however,  knowing 
nothing  of  this,  nor  we  of  Clyde.  Oh,  what  would  I  not 
have  given  for  one  little  word  !  But  time  passed  on,  and 
that  word  came  not. 

Still  the  tempest  thickened,  falling  in  blood-drops  on  the 
withered  earth  !  Still  the  red  tides  ran  swiftly  to  the  crim- 
son sea,  through  homes  of  the  North  and  flowers  of  the 
South.  The  great  heart  of  our  nation  gi-ew  sick  and  faint 
with  constant  gory  depletion.  Authorities  at  Washington 
had  ceased  to  talk  so  grandly  about  crushing  the  rebellion. 
The  plea  was  often  one  of  resistance  ao-ainst  the  leo-ions 
that  bore  down  upon  our  shores,  leaving  their  dead,  grim 


232  TEE  MONTANAS. 

and  ghastly,  side  by  side  with  our  own.  The  record 
swelled,  and  the  sacrificial  list  grew  longer  day  by  day. 
The  great  heart  throbbed  faster  in  its  agony. 

I  sat  thinking,  darkly,  vaguely,  of  these  things  one  even- 
ing, as  I  rocked  Ala  Eay  in  my  arms.  The  little  thing 
talked  dreamily  of  her  dear  papa,  and  how  at  nigKt  he  lay 
down  to  sleep  under  the  stars,  adding  earnestly :  "  Some 
of  these  times  I,  too,  shall  go  out  to  sleep  under  the  sters." 

"  My  darling  Ala,  what  makes  you  think  and  talk  thus 
of  such  things  ? " 

"  Only  because  grandma  did,  you  know ;  and  my  papa 
does  so,  too." 

I  pressed  her  closely  to  my  heart,  and  told  her  how, 
some  day,  she  would  sleep  on  the  breast  of  her  good,  kind 
father.  For  I  felt  she  was  drawing  us  with  her  to  the  little 
gate  where  she  would  take  her  leave  of  us. 

Oh,  little  heart!  that  loved  and  twined  your  blossoms 
round,  and  little  hands  that  wove  into  our  coarse  and 
tangled  web  of  daily  life  the  golden  threads  that  bound  its 
meshes  to  God's  throne  !  Oh,  dewdrop  of  celestial  bright- 
ness, freshening  the  blossoms  in  our  earth-worn  souls,  until 
they  held  something  of  ethereal  beauty  in  their  mystic 
depths !  Oh,  little  feet,  that  came  from  their  wanderings 
amid  the  heavenly  ways,  and  left  your  impress  upon  our 
wilderness !  Oh,  sweet  Ala  Ray  !  What  do  we  not  owe 
to  thee,  during  that  dark  season,  of  pure  gushing  joy  here 
in  our  world !  We  listened  to  the  music  of  thy  little  feet 
along  their  journey  to  its  close,  and  then  our  hearts  went 
with  thee,  darling,  over  the  starry  way,  into  the  unknown 
land,  while  the  birds  sang,  and  bright  waters  ran.  Then 
we  lived — our  body  here,  soul  yonder — during  the  long 
night  of  grief  which  came  after  we  had  laid  thee  in  thy 
little  grave — to  sleep  under  the  stars  of  heaven. 


77727  MONTANAS.  233 

Wlien  I  laid  her  in  her  little  bed  that  night,  which 
gathered  full  of  starry  shadows,  as  I  had  seen  many  a  night 
in  our  Southern  land ;  below  in  the  bosom  of  the  valley 
lay  the  town,  and  the  swift  river  running  at  the  foot  of 
towering  hills,  whose  summits  seemed  to  creep  close  to  the 
Eternal  Throne.  With  a  sure  tread  of  days  whose  memory 
would  never  die,  I  thought  how  Clyde  and  I  had  once  stood 
tofjether  in  the  lio;ht  of  a  bvffone  morninor,  with  nothinor 
between  us  save  two  children's  vague  hopes  and  dreams. 
Ah  !  the  sorrow  and  changes  since  !  The  battle-cry.  On  to 
Richmond,  struck  on  my  heart  like  a  funeral  bell ;  crimson 
tides  ran  where  the  golden  river  flowed ;  and  the  feet  that 
lingered  once  upon  its  margin  had  wandered  through  a 
rough  wide  world  since  then.  The  youth  in  my  memory 
gave  gradual  place  to  a  man  chivalrous  and  brave,  whose 
breast  was  bared  to  the  shaft  of  every  friend  I  had  in  the 
Federal  army. 


CHAPTER  XYI. 

"  Farewell  I  a  word  that  hath  been,  and  must  be ; 
A  sound  that  makes  us  linger — yet  farewell." 

Shakespeabs. 

Stanley  was  succeeding  well  with  her  school ;  God  had 
been  pleased  to  turn  the  hearts  of  her  pupils  in  love  towards 
their  teacher ;  she  was  very  happy  in  her  own  home. 
"  Oh !  "  she  said  to  me  once,  "  the  rare  luxury  of  being 
alone ;  of  going  down  into  the  hidden  places  of  one's  own 
heart  and  learning  the  needs  of  our  higher  natures,  fathoming 
our  capacity  for  enduring  all  that  life  off'ers,  be  it  joy  or 
sorrow.     I  would  not  exchange  this  little  domicile,  with  Miss 


234  THE  MONT  AN  AS. 

Phoebe  to  pamper  and  care  for  me,. for  the  elegant  eai^e  of 
Ridgely  or  Raymond's  more  costly  surroundings.  I  love 
to  be  near  you  all ;  I  should  be  wretched  if  I  could  not  see 
you  daily ;  but  there  are  times  when  I  like  best  to  be  all 
alone ;  I  rely  more  upon  myself,  and  feel  my  dependence  on 
God  more." 

"  I  think  we  all  come  to  do  that  when  we  grow  acquainted 
with  the  world  as  it  is.  After  successive  disappointments 
and  humiliations  we  come  to  seek  in  our  own  thought  all 
that  lay  so  vast  and  far  away.  I  would  by  no  means 
depreciate  the  high  and  holy  privilege  of  holding  intercourse 
with  our  fellow-beings ;  but,  as  men  and  women,  we  are 
never  quite  happy  unless  we  can  come  out  from  the  social 
world  and  find  within  ourselves  the  truest  resources  of 
happiness.  Though  there  was  a  time  when  my  little  St,anley 
was  not  the  philosopher  she  is  now." 

She  started,  fixmg  her  eyes  keenly  upon  my  face  ;  the  words 
struck  her;  she  had  not  forgotten  how  Warren  Hayne  once 
called  her  thus.  She  smiled  a  smile,  bitter,  yet  serene,  half 
of  memorv,  half  of  hope;  a  hope  that  had  its  origin  in 
higher  things  than  the  fleeting  promises  of  youth,  which 
after  time  rarely  fulfils ;  then  answered  me  in  the  words  of 
an  unknown  poet : 

"  I  have  grown  wise  ;  the  disciplines  and  trials 
Through  which  I  have  passed,  with  bitter  groans  and  tears, 
Were  but  the  shadows  ou  God's  goldeu  dials, 
Pointing  me  onward  to  serener  years." 

She  had  gained  them,  but  would  this  calmness  stand  the 
trial  test  ?     I  question  : 

"  Darling,  you  are  so  young  to  give  up  the  world  thus. 
Does  it  hold  nothing  for  you  ?  how  do  you  appropriate  the 
lono"  hours  apart  from  your  routine  of  duty  spent  in  solitude 
and  lonehuess  ? " 


THE  MONTANAS.  235 

"  I  ask  you,  Aljean,  what  life  would  be  expected  to  retain 
for  me  more  tliaii  duty,  wlien  its  crowu  of  hope  lay  in  the 
dust  until  the  spirit-hand  of  a  higher  hope  and  life  re-adjusted 
it  upon  a  brow  w^here  the  thorn- wreath  sat;  true,  I  spend 
lono-  hours  in  solitude,  but  not  in  loneliness ;  I  will  show 
you  how  I  fill  them  up." 

She  took  from  her  desk  a  manuscript  copy  of  poems,  blush- 
ing timidly  as  I  caught  them  from  her  reluctant  hand.  On  and 
on  I  read ;  the  beautiful  thoughts,  so  elegantly  chaste,  were 
couched  in  language  purely  her  own.  Exquisite  fancies 
trooped  about  me  as  I  read  my  -sister's  heart  there  in  those 
mirrors  of  the  mind,  in  which  I  saw  her  glorious  soul  reflected, 
all  radiant  and  glowing  with  the  impress  of  Deity.  I  knew 
her  then  ;  I  clasped  her  to  my  heart ;  the  electric  chain  of 
eternal  sisterhood  was  vibrating  between  us,  as  it  would 
never  cease  to  do  henceforth;  oh,  howl  loved  her!  In 
my  enthusiasm  I  exclaimed : 

"  I  would  give  worlds,  Stanley,  to  be  able  to  write  like 
this!" 

"  There  is  this  difference ;  you  live  your  poetry — ^I  write 
mine." 

A  few  tender  words  at  parting ;  I  walked  thoughtfully 
down  the  grassy  home-road  in  the  glistening  sunshine, 
leaving  her  to  herself;  there  was  no  society  that  could 
afford  her  such  joy  as  these  quiet  communings  with  her 
own  sublime  and  glorious  soul.  This  was  the  woman  whose 
love  Warren  Hayne  had  ti-ifled  away  with  capricious  pride, 
had  bartered  for  the  gold  of  her  rival.  Ah,  well !  he  had 
taken  much  less  from  her  than  she  claimed  from  him ;  she 
could  look  down  upon  him  from  heights  which  he  could 
never  attain ;  for  he  wandered  not  from  the  shorn  avenues 
of  society.  I  was  thinking  of  my  cousin  Warren,  little 
dreaming  how  soon  we  should  meet  again. 


236  THE  MONT  ANAS. 

On  the  afternoon  succeeding  I  sought  Stanley,  to  have 
her  accompany  me  to  my  old  haunt  on  the  hillside.  Miss 
Phoebe  informed  me  that  she  was  already  there,  and  Mr. 
Hayne  ha\TLng  called  in  her  absence,  she  had  sent  him  to 
seek  for  her  in  that  locaUty. 

"  Cousin  Warren  I  "  I  exclaimed  with  astonishment ;  "  he 
here, — how  long  since  he  arrived?" 

"  He  returned  from  Paris  the  first  of  the  month,  though 
he  only  arrived  in  Wayburn  an  hour  ago." 

Very  moody  and  reflective,  I  took  my  way  to  the  landing, 
untied  the  little  painted  skiff,  and  crossed  the  river  to  the 
opposite  shore ;  then  climbed  the  narrow  pathway  along 
the  steep  hillside  until  I  came  to  a  level  space  several  hun- 
dred feet  above  the  stream.  I  sat  me  down  beside  a  cool 
spring  beneath  the  shadow  of  a  grand  old  tree — the  same 
tree  under  which  Clyde  and  I  rested  on  the  occasion  of  our 
first  pilgrimage  to  this  spot.  I  was  thinking  of  it  when  a 
voice — sweet,  plaintive — familiar  to  that  old  time,  broke  on 
the  stillness  and  found  its  echo  in  my  heart.  It  was  Stanley 
singing.  I  wondered  if  Clyde,  amid  the  din  of  distant  bat- 
tles, ever  thouo-ht  of  her  or  of  me  now  ?  I  should  have  orone 
to  her  had  I  not  beheld  Cousin  Warren  ascending  the  steep, 
with  a  gloomy  eagerness  in  his  manner  that  I  never  ob- 
served before,  even  in  the  days  of  keenest  suffering.  I 
knew  there  was  something  on  his  mind,  in  his  thought, 
which  he  felt  it  needful  to  speak !  that  he  sought  Stanley 
here  for  the  purpose  of  seeing  her  alone.  Though  the 
undergrowth  was  profuse,  I  could  not  change  positions  with- 
out discovering  to  them  my  locality,  thus  preventing  the 
intendew :  so  I  sat  quite  still,  because  I  wanted  that  she 
and  Cousin  Warren  should  at  last  come  to  understand  each 
other.  I  knew  that  he  would  be  happier  if  such  were  the 
case ;  and  it  was  only  just  to  each  that  it  should  be  so.     I 


THE  MOXTANAS.  237 

knew  that  Stanley  Montana  could  never  come  down  from 
her  proud  heights  of  prmciple  to  wrong  his  wife,  even  if 
the  one's  place  had  been  given  to  the  other.  What  had 
that  civil  contract,  called  marriage,  that  was  loveless,  to  do 
with  soul-bonds  that  were  for  time  and  eternity  ?  Warren 
realized  this  when  he  spoke. 

"I  learned  from  Milverton  all  I  know  concerning  you*, 
he  told  me  of  the  confiscation  of  your  property,  which  was 
a  cruel  wrong.  When  I  learned  that  you  were  teaching  for 
a  livelihood,  knowing  that  your  brother  and  Ingram  were 
in  the  separate  armies,  I  could  not  rest  until  I  came  to  you : 
the  reflection  cut  me  to  the  soul.  You,  Stanley — young 
and  beautiful — working  at  such  toilsome  business  !  I  can- 
not tell  why  vour  friends  allow  it." 

"  My  friends  here  do  not  regard  this  fatile  effort  on  my 
part  to  sustain  myself,  as  a  degradation  in  any  sense  what- 
ever. It  was  my  own  plan ;  many  of  them  approved  it ; 
my  brother  did  not,  though  he  never  thwarted  me  in  his 
life.  My  course  was  sanctioned  by  conscience,  and  that  is 
the  highest  authority  to  which  an  orphan  girl  can  appeal. 
The  age  is  so  full  of  work  now, — sorrowing  work  for  unwil- 
hng  hands,  and  burdens  for  hearts  that  are  bleeding !  I 
should  esteem  myself  miserably  selfish  if  I  bore  no  portion. 
Like  the  Prisoner  of  Chillon,  I  have  learned  to  love  my 
toils — '  my  chains  and  I  are  friends.'  I  appreciate  all  your 
delicate  considerateness,  Mr.  Hayne,  but  there  is  nothing 
except  kindness  I  can  receive  at  your  hands.  Do  not  tempt 
me  to  change  my  decision ;  I  am  certain  your  respect  for 
me  will  impel  you  to  hold  sacred  the  refusal  of  an  offer 
made  through  sincere  disinterestedness.  I  will  do  you  the 
justice  to  believe  naught  else  could  have  induced  it." 

He  answered  her  in  a  grieved  tone ;  I  could  hear  his 
voice  tremble  as  he  said : 


23 S  TnE  MOXTAXAS. 

"  Thank  you  !  respect  is  a  very  cold  word :  but  if  it  is 
the  term  you  prefer,  I  will  adopt  it.  But  just  now — hold- 
ing you  more  sacredly,  reverently,  than  ever  before — I  feel 
the  time  to  be  at  hand  when  I  must  and  will  speak.  When 
you  were  encircled  by  the  peerless  anus  of  society,  I  could 
look  upon  you  unmoved,  though  I  saw  you  day  by  day, 
young,  beautiful,  beloved  by  all.  I  will  not  say  how  one 
whose  love  you  scorned,  whose  praise  you  set  at  naught, 
worshipped  you  more  than  any.  Ah  !  you  refuse  to  hear 
the  story  ?  well,  it  would  not  interest  you  ;  the  time  is  long 
past ;  you  have  eschewed  alike  the  passion  and  the  memory 
of  it.  It  is  of  other  things  I  will  speak  now !  other  con- 
siderations are  involved ;  commonplace  ones  of  comfort 
have  arisen,  instead  of  the  many  things  that  have  flown 
from  you  since  then ;  there  is  little  left !  I  wish  to  replace 
a  small  portion  of  what  others  have  taken  away.  You  must 
and  shall  hear  me  through." 

She  put  back  the  words  with  an  impatient  gesture ;  half 
the  ardor  of  her  Southern  nature  flashed  in  the  answer  she 
gave. 

"  And  I  say  that  I  will  not  hear  you  !  Were  I  starving, 
Warren  Hayne,  I  should  accept  no  aid  from  you.  Our 
conversation  should  end  just  here ;  in  truth  it  never  should 
have  begun." 

How  that  girl  could  speak  thus  to  him,  while  her 
proud  soul,  thus  racked  and  tortured,  lay  underneath  his 
feet,  is  more  than  I  can  tell.  Oh,  world !  for  thee  what  will 
not  mortals  dare  and  do  !    Warren  answered  impatiently  : 

"  Stanley,  you  will  drive  me  mad  !  That  you  have  not 
done  so  long  ere  this,  was  not  owing  to  any  omission  in 
your  effort.  God  knows  how  you  have  taxed  and  tried 
me  ;  but  let  it  pass ;  if  the  love  on  which  I  staked  my  life 
could  awaken  no  answering  throb,  it  were  vain  to  expect 


THE  MONT  ANAS.  239 

that  you  would  sympatliize  witli  the  sorrow  grown  out  of 
that  early  season  of  grief." 

He  bowed  do\\Ti  his  head,  his  form  shaking  with  sup- 
pressed feeling,  as  she  spoke  again : 

"  Were  it  not  for  the  ban  upon  your  lips  and  life,  which 
I  would  have  you  respect  more  than  aught  else,  I  should 
ask  you  to  explain  the  meaning  of  your  strange  words  of 
accusation  ?  But  now,  there  are  griefs  of  my  own  which 
I  would  implore  you  to  consider  if  you  know  how  much 
I  have  suffered.  For  the  sake  of  all  that  is  past,  which 
I  have  not  forgotten,  I  ask  you  to  leave  me !  What  would 
the  world  say  ?  Would  it  not  cavil  that  you  have  offered 
me,  an  unfortunate  woman,  the  means  of  support  ?  " 

"  For  God's  sake  desist !  Is  the  world  capable  of  sitting 
in  judgment  respecting  my  emotions  and  feelings,  which 
it  cannot  know  ?  "Then,  for  the  sake  of  one  who  loved 
and  suffered  before  me,  parade  not  the  edict  of  that  faith- 
less thing.  I  hate  it.  I  have  as  little  respect  for  myself  as 
for  other  votaries  who  have  worn  its  liveiy  and  become  its 
minions." 

"  And  yet,"  added  Stanley,  "  we  hold  society  to  be  in- 
fallible !  It  is  the  world's  voice,  and  we  dare  not  disobey. 
Who  has  sufficient  courage  to  brave  the  displeasure  of  that 
kingly  autocrat,  lynx-eyed,  serpent-tongued  ?" 

"  /  have  !  Society  is  not  the  world  at  large  !  It  is  the 
league  of  a  fortunate  few  whom  birth  and  position  have 
placed  beyond  the  range  of  circumstances ;  who  look  upon 
life  from  a  stand-point  far  removed  from  its  casualties,  who 
presume  to  make  laws  for  a  portion  of  humanity  whose 
toils  and  struggles  they  have  never  felt." 

"God's  law  is  the  groundwork  of  society,"  humbly 
suggested  Stanley. 

"  So  it  is,  or  was  originally.     However,  there  have  been 


240  THE  MONTANAS. 

■wide  deviations  from  the  original  standard  and  structure ; 
religion  deteriorated !  Did  the  great  Father  intend  that 
institutions  of  church,  designed  to  perpetuate  his  love  for 
humanity,  should  become  as  walls  of  granite  to  keep  the 
poor  and  suffering  out?  When  on  earth,  did  He  fill  his 
temples  with  high-priests  and  judges,  and  empower  them 
to  make  laws  for  the  transgressor?  "What  but 'those  in- 
■stitutions  have  peopled  insane  asylums,  and  shut  an  iron 
gate  against  the  wayward  and  the  erring  ?  Does  not  this 
same  system  set  a  cold  hard  heel  upon  every  generous 
impulse,  and  ascribe  self-interest  to  every  pure  motive  ? 
The  world  does  this — the  social  world — the  religious  world ! 
Not  the  lower  million  of  humanity,  but  the  world,  with 
whose  opinions  and  mandate  you  taunt  me." 

She  answered  slowly  yet  firmly : 

"  You  are  severe,  Mr.  Hayne ;  religion  is  not  confined  to 
the  observance  of  any  formula,  or  embodied  by  an  institu- 
tion !  It  is  simply  an  intuitive  recognition  of  God  in  the 
heart.  Society  has  doubtless  deteriorated,  grow^n  austere 
and  exclusive  !  Yet  in  many  instances  within  and  without 
the  church  we  find  those  who  estimate  life  the  weighty 
thing  it  is ;  who  generously  commend  every  struggle  tend- 
ing towards  the  consummation  of  its  purposes ;  who  look 
charitably  on  those  wandering  from  the  right — the  feeling 
world,  I  meant.  But  it  is  not  the  world  that  stands  be- 
tween us  to-day,  at  whose  mandate  we  parted,  a  parting 
that  came  like  -winter  to  my  southern  home.  I  am  glad  you 
have  learned  its  faithlessness  since  then !  though  all  the 
while  you  conned  this  lesson,  the  tides,  mighty  and  vast, 
were  coming  in  between  our  lives,  and  the  space  growing 
wider  there !  Your  friendly  feet,  even,  may  not  cross  it 
now;  my  heart  is  yet  sick  and  sore;  the  smiter's  hand 
was  very  careless,  you  know." 


THE  MONTANAS.  241 

"  Stanley,  will  you  speak  plainly  ?  Your  words  are  more 
cutting,  from  the  fact  that  they  are  mystical.  I,  who  have 
so  much  cause  for  complaint,  could  never  be  brought  to 
speak  thus  to  you.  It  is  enough  that  you  reject  so  bitterly 
my  proposition  of  aid  !  Yet  I  will  bear  this  patiently  as 
I  have  borne  other  things  before ;  only  take  that  barrier 
from  your  thought,  say  that  it  is  gone ;  this  life  is  only  a 
little  day,  and  the  evening  shades  are  gathering  fast ;  then 
there  is  the  great  to-morrow  of  eternity.  Say  not  this 
gi'eat  suffering  must  endure  for  ever ;  consent  that  we  shall 
be  friends — true  to  ourselves  and  to  each  other,  steadfast 
evermore." 

"  The  decision  was  your  own,  Warren ;  you  must  abide  it. 
I  repeat,  all  the  great  world  stands  between  us;  its  tides 
have  ebbed  and  flowed  ever  since  my  orange  wreath  was 
left  to  wither  by  the  southern  fountain.  I  have  lingered 
on  and  on,  have  breasted  tempests  that  were  not  so  hard 
to  endure  as  the  hopeless  calms.  One  by  one  the  strong 
cords  were  rent  asunder  and  the  lights  went  out.  Very 
sick  of  heart,  I  sought  to  prove  myself,  to  try  my  own 
resources  ;  I  am  stronger  and ,  happier  in  the  effort.  De- 
lights of  the  mind  are  the  only  pleasures  that  do  not  leave 
us,  when  most  we  value  them.  When  you  grow  discon- 
tented with  your  world,  Warren,  your  world — you  loved  it 
once ;  open  the  windows  of  your  own  mind  and  soul ! "God's 
light  will  come  pouring  in,  revealing  many  treasures  with- 
in yourself,  of  tvhich  you  were  unaware.  Now,  go  back 
to  the  life  you  have  left ;  think  not  of  me,  except  as  one 
who  tries  to  be  brave,  bearing  her  cross  hopefully,  patiently. 
Yes,  you  may  think  of  me  occasionally  as  sitting  in  the 
sunshine  of  a  far-off  time  when  there  was  between  us  two 
no  mist  and  space ;  no  faded  wreath  or  broken  trust." 

"  For  God's  sake,  Stanley,  let  us  not  part  thu«,  without 

U 


242  THE  MOKTANAS. 

one  word  to  sweep  away  this  horrid  phantom  of  formless 
change  which  has  pursued  me  since  we  parted." 

"  Warren,  I  perceive  there  has  been  misunderstanding 
and  misconstruction,  which  no  words  of  ours  can  alter 
now;  it  is  due  to  your  lawful  wife  that  neither  should 
speak  them — hence  my  silence.  Now,  farewell;  nothuig 
remains — that  word  is  spoken." 

There  was  a  rustling  in  the  sunshine  of  snowy  drapery 
and  falling  curls,  then  she  was  gone.  The  brightness  went 
with  her.  AMien  he  ceased  to  hear  the  music  of  her  tones 
— so  long  silent — he  unconsciously  stretched  forth  his 
hands,  as  he  sat  there,  powerless  to  move  or  to  think. 
All  his  loving,  pain,  and  struggle  bore  down  upon  him  in 
that  bitter  moment,  when  Stanley  left  him  thus.  I  rose  to 
meet  her  as  she  came  up  the  steep ;  she  fell  into  my  arms, 
uttering  a  sharp  wail  of  anguish.  The  time  was  come  to 
tell  her  all  I  knew.     I  spoke  swiftly,  certain  of  my  ground. 

"  Stanley,  my  darling,  do  not  take  the  responsibility  upon 
yourself  of  so  burdening  a  human  heart.  Wan'en  Hayne 
loves  you — has  loved  you  all  the  time ;  some  one  intercept- 
ed your  correspondence.  Your  letters  and  his  were  pur- 
loined by  traitor  hands  ;  others  substituted  in  their  places. 
I  have  known  this  for  a  long  time  ;  that  is  why  I  wanted 
you  to  wear  his  pearls — ^the  bridal  gift,  purchased  in  good 
faith  for  you  ;  he  would  not  allow  another  to  wear  them, 
because,  he  said,  they  were  yours,  though  he  believed  you 
untrue.  He  has  generously  forgiven  what  he  deemed  per- 
fidy in  yourself.  He  has  waived  every  consideration  involv- 
ing untruth  on  your  part,  suffering  on  his.  He  has  offered 
you  his  friendship  ;  accept  it.  Make  peace  with  him  ;  take 
the  thorn  out  of  his  heart,  darling.  Come  with  me ;  speak 
words  of  comfort  to  Warren." 

There  was  a  strange  brilliancy,  as  of  dehght,  in  her  beau- 


THE  MONTANAS.  243 

tiful  eyes.  After  believing  our  idols  fallen,  it  is  so  sweet 
to  find  them  occupying  an  exalted  niche  in  the  great  tem- 
ple of  human  destiny,  even  though  they  be  high  above  us, 
where  love  can  never  reach  them.  We  came  down  the 
hillside  path  to  where  Warren  sat  wrapped  in  gloomy 
reflection.  I  laid  my  hand  upon  his  shoulder,  speaking 
very  gently : 

"  Do  not  think  harshly  of  her  ;  she  has  good  reason  to 
be  severe.  All  along  she  has  believed  you  false.  She 
received  no  written  word  from  you,  until  the  intelli- 
gence, couched  in  one  brief,  cold  letter,  informing  her  of 
your  intended  marriage.  We  thought  you  had  deserted 
Stanley  on  learning  she  was  not  the  heiress  you  believed 
her.  I  have  proved  my  trust  in  your  further  generosity  by 
telling  you  these  things.  I  do  not  believe  you  will  ever 
betray  her,  or  impart  to  any  human  being  your  knowledge 
of  them.  Stanley  has  always  been  true  to  you."  Bright- 
er grew  the  light  on  his  face  as  I  spoke.  He  took  her  little 
hand,  kissed  it  reverently,  as  if  it  were  a  holy  thing — 
saying  over  and  over : 

"  Ah,  poor  little  heart,  it  was  true  to  me,  thanJc  God  I  " 
Then  he  told  us  how,  after  leaving  Claremont,  he  had  writ- 
ten all  his  lover-heart  out  to  Stanley,  and  had  waited  long 
months  for  an  answer,  which  never  came — only  a  letter 
from  Retta  Austin  to  Miss  Strawbridge,  announcing  her 
intended  marriage  with  Clyde  Ingi-am,  adding :  "  My  man- 
tna-maker  is  engaged  in  preparing  Miss  Montana's  elegant 
trousseau."  We  saw  it  all.  Retta  Austin,  without  promot- 
ing in  the  slightest  degree  the  purpose  for  which  she  dis- 
pensed wdth  her  integrity,  had  succeeded  in  keeping  two 
fond  hearts  apart.  I  was  glad  it  was  all  explained  away, 
the  haunting  mystery.  The  world  could  not  appreciate  the 
need  of  such  a  conference,  and  must  not  know  it ;  but  there 


244  THE  MONTANAS. 

is  no  shame  in  love  that  is  pure  and  stedfast.  We  should 
only  blush  for  the  attribute  desecrated  and  despoiled  of  its 
high  nature.  Between  them  now  there  should  be  "no  more 
bitterness — only  fate  and  dutyy  Stanley  said  bravely,  feel- 
ingly : 

"  I  can  see,  now,  why  this  explanation  was  withheld  from 
us  until  our  aflfection  had  attained  its  clearest  sight,  which 
reveals  to  us  danger  and  the  prudent  way  tO  avoid  it.  I  do 
not  mean  that  our  love  could  hold  temptation  to  wrong,  but 
you  must  respect  its  mandates,  and  shield  me  from  the 
world,  from  even  the  semblance  of  evil." 

We  three  came  down  the  hillside  together.  Warren 
took  one  boat ;  Stanley  and  I  the  other.  Thus  we  crossed 
to  the  home  shore.  At  her  request,  we  took  tea  at  the 
cottage.  There  was  a  sweet  calmness  in  their  manner 
towards  each  other.  I  saw  how  Warren  felt  her  presence 
in  everything  about  him.  Once  in  his  own  surroundings, 
he  would  not  feel  it  near  so  much.  But  now  he  certainly 
realized  very  keenly  what  was  lost  to  him  in  losing  her. 
When  he  was  gone,  she  said  to  me : 

"  I  can  bear,  Jennie,  all  that  I  must.  But  oh,  if  he  had 
married  some  one  else !  Some  one  whom,  in  time,  he 
might  have  come  to  love — who  had  power  to  make  him 
happy — I,  too,  might  learn  to  be  content.  But  when  I 
recall  the  hungry  look  of  longing  on  his  face,  the  face  that 
J  have  seen  love-lighted  and  radiant,  I  feel  my  burden  is  great- 
er than  I  can  bear — though  I  must  try,  for  her  hands  make 
for  him  a  home,  while  mine  lie  listless  and  idle,  unless  I 
strive  to  do  God's  work  on  earth." 

Thus  those  two  took  up  their  separate  ways  through  the. 
wide  world,  while  their  souls  and  hearts  in  the  presence  of 
the  highest  Judge  were  wedded  and  one.     The  days  wore 
onward  to  their  close  one  by  one  until  The  summer  was 


THE  MONTANAS.  245 

ended ;  the  second  summer  of  her  soul-life  was  bound  up 
with  treasures  time  was  garnering  for  her  future  yonder, 
where  lights  of  summer  never  pale. 

We  learned  from  Milverton  that  Warren  had  gone  abroad 
with  his  wife,  whose  health  was  failing,  We  heard  almost 
constantly  from  Raymond ;  never  from  Clyde,  though  red 
autumn  came  and  went.  How  swift  are  battle  years,  how 
long  with  agony  and  waiting;  waiting  for  peace,  which 
comes  not  untU  the  twilight  of  death  has  closed  out  the 
fourth  year ! 


CHAPTER  XVn. 

"  Be  thou  as  chaste  as  ice,  and  pure  as  snow, 
Thou  shalt  not  escape  calumny." 

Shakspeaee. 

Wayburn,  like  all  New  England  towns,  had  its  Soldiers' 
Aid  Society,  which  met  weekly  at  the  residence  of  its  friends 
and  supporters.  A  few  weeks  subsequent  to  the  events 
detailed  in  the  last  chapter,  the  circle  met  at  Ridgely ;  I 
was  sitting  in  the  library  with  Ala,  while  she  slept;  a 
variety  of  subjects  were  under  discussion ;  Mary  was  assist- 
ing her  mother  in  household  preparations  for  the  entertain- 
ment of  their  guests ;  Stanley  had  promised  to  come  with 
Uncle  Kingswell  when  school  hours  were  over.  I  held  my 
breath  with  profound  astonishment  when  I  heard  Mrs. 
Seaman  in  an  adjoining  room: 

"  I  never  in  all  my  life  was  so  mistaken  in  regard  to  any 
one;  I  wonder  Mr.  KingsweU  should  seek  to  hnpose  that 
creature  upon  his  friends." 

"To  whom  do  you  refer?"   inquired  sharp-faced  Mrs. 


216  THE  MOXTAXAS. 

Cummins,  in  a  weasel-voice,  her  blact  eyes  twintling  witli 
suppressed  curiosity. 

"  Can  it  be  possible  you  have  not  heard  ? — that  Stanley 
Montana  who  teaches  in  town."  ^ 

"  Well,  what  has  she  done  ? "  inquired  the  squeaking 
voice. 

"  We  cannot  exactly  say  what  she  has  done,  but  we  can- 
not answer  for  what  she  hasii't  done  I"  answered  malicious 
Mrs.  Seaman,  with  the  air  of  one  who  knew  little,  yet  sus- 
pected a  great  deal.  I  remembered  that  her  daughter  had 
been  a  competitor  of  Stanley's  for  the  school  she  had 
established.     Mrs.  Seaman  added : 

"  I  never  had  much  opinion  of  those  Southern  women  ; 
there  is  something  peculiar  about  all  I  ever  see." 

Mrs.  Cummins's  black  eyes  glanced  vindictively  as  she 
turned  them  upon  the  mild-faced  lady  who  addressed  Mrs. 
Seaman  now. 

"  If  vou  know  anything  derogatory  to  the  character  or 
usefulness  of  this  young  female,  speak,  for  my  daughters 
are  pupils  of  hers?" 

"  I  don't  know  as  it  is  exactly  safe  to  speak  about  it  here  ; 
the  Kinorswells  are  dreadfully  bound  up  in  her.  Three  or 
four  years  ago  thev  came  here  first,  them  two  gals  and  two 
youno^  men ;  young  Mr.  Montana  and  another,  his  nephew 
I  believe  he  called  him.  I  didn't  know  as  he  was  any  kin 
to  him,  though  I  had  often  seen  him  here  before.  Well, 
they  staved  all  summer,  flying  round  from  one  waterin'-place 
to  another ;  they  were  part  of  the  time  at  Ridgely,  during 
which  period  young  Mr.  Hayne,  son  of  Sol  Hayne  who 
owns  the  large  place  'twixt  here  and  town,  and  used  to  live 
there  in  the  warm  season,  saw  the  one  with  all  those  curls, 
as  is  now  a  teachin',  and  fell  in  love  with  her,  as  she  did 
with  him.     Oh,  they  were  the  lovinest  couple  you  ever  see ! 


THE  MONT  AN  AS.  247 

To  Mrs.  Martin's  party  they  wern't  apart  five  blessed  minutes 
tlie  wliole  evenin'.  Then  after  supper  they  went  out  into 
the  garden ;  he  pulled  flowers  and  put  them  in  her  curls, 
and  came  leading  her  in  to  the  parlor  mirror,  blushin'  and 
simperin'  after  a  ridiculous  fashion,  to  look  at  herself.  I 
have  always  tried  to  teach  my  daughter  better  than  to  go 
out  walkin'  with  young  men  after  night,  even  if  the  moon 
is  a  shinin'  bright  as  day ;  or  walkin'  with  married  men 
either,  for  that  matter,  even  though  it  be  over  the  hills  in 
broad  daytime." 

"Why  did  they  not  marry  ?"  inquired  meek  Mrs.  Moore. 

"  Well,  as  I  was  a  goin'  to  say,  I  don't  think  he  went  as 
she  did  that  summer,  though  he  certainly  followed  her  home, 
and  was  dovrn  there  a'most  all  winter;  when  he  came  back 
he  told  his  father  they  would  be  married,  but  he  married  a 
lady  from  Philadelphia  instead.  When  I  was  in  New  York 
that  spring  after  the  weddin',  Warren's  mother  told  me  her 
son  had  made  a  money  match.  Be  that  as  it  may,  he's  got 
the  other  now  and  ought  to  stick  by  her,  instead  of  hunting 
up  old  flames  to  burn  his  fingers  with ! " 

"  Might  he  not  have  called  merely  for  the  sake  of  old 
acquaintanceship  ? "  suggested  Mrs.  Moore ;  though  Mrs. 
Seaman  was  determined  to  take  no  probable  y\qw  of  the 
case,  so  she  answered  somewhat  curtly — 

"  If  he  wanted  to  see  her,  and  she  him,  which  was  evi- 
dent, why  did  they  not  go  to  see  one  another  openly  and 
above-board,  instead  of  meeting  secretly  on  the  hill  ?  Then 
he  came  over  in  another  boat  to  elude  suspicion.  After 
haA'ing  done  all  that,  he  went  home  with  her.  Yes,  she 
actually  walked  through  the  streets  of  Waybum  with  a  mar- 
ried man ! ! !  I  saw  her  with  my  own  eyes.  I  certainly 
think  one  should  not  be  countenanced  at  all,  who  could 
with  impunity  set  such  an  example  to  the  young  girls  under 


248  TUE  MONTANAS. 

her  charge.  As  for  myself,  I  shall  show  her  do  favor  in 
future;  she  can  expect  nothing  from  people  who  pride 
themselves  upon  their  character  for  virtue  in  society." 

Indeed,  thought  I,  it  was  wonderful ;  Mrs.  Seaman's  sa- 
gacity in  beholding  things  that  were  to  be  seen  !  Yet  why 
was  she  blinded  that  I  was  one  of  the  party  who  walked 
through  the  streets  of  Wayburn  with  a  married  man  in 
broad  daylight — and  that  man  my  cousin,  Warren  Hayne  ? 

"  I  have  often  heard  that  society  in  Southern  cities  differs 
very  much  from  our  New  England  towns.  Married  people 
receive  and  entertain,  and  go  more  frequently  into  company 
than  young  people  do,"  ventured  Mrs.  Moore,  timidly. 

"  Well !  no  wonder  there  is  so  much  wickedness  down 
there ! — the  Gulf  States  had  to  break  out  into  rebellion  :  it 
was  an  escape-valve  for  their  licentiousness.  I  have  always 
heard  the  land  was  a  perfect  Sodom  !  I  am  more  inclined 
than  ever  to  believe  it." 

This  observation  came  from  a  strong-minded  female  dis 
ciple  of  the  Greeley  school.     Mrs.  Seaman  spoke  again : 

"  Well,  they  should  not  want  to  introduce  Southern 
fashions^  in  a  civilized  country,  where  we  don't  indulge  in 
such  abominable  practices.  It  is  the  fashion  down  there  to 
hold  human  critters  in  bondao^e.  But  we  don't  intend  to 
adopt  such  an  ungodly  usage  in  our  Christian  community. 
I'll  insure  it,  if  the  truth  was  known,  young  Hayne  had 
good  reason  for  failing  to  keep  his  engagement  with  Stanley 
Montana.  He  would  have  married  her  if  she  had  been 
worthy !  for  she  was  pretty  enough,  and  rich  enough,  too, 
for  that  matter,  to  tempt  any  man." 

Ah  !  how  many  of  that  ^drtuous,  self-righteous  social  band 

would  have  trampled  down  a  sweet  voice  in  their  heart,  risen 

above  temptation,  and  gone  on  in  the  way  of  duty,  as  had 

#*         that  brave  young  creature,  w^hose  name  they  bandied  from 


TEE  MOKTANAS.  249 

venomous  lip  to  lip  as  though  it  were  a  worthless  thing 
— she  who  stood  so  far  above  their  commonplace  estimates 
that  their  foui  tong-ues  mio;ht  never  reach  her  save  throuo-h 
the  love  of  her  friends !  Yet  was  she  subject  to  insult  from 
this  virtuous  clique.  Virtuous  because  they  had  never 
known  temptation — harnessed,  as  they  were,  to  the  rack  of 
an  every-day  routine.  I  think  the  spiteful  old  woman  felt 
this  keenly  as  I  did ;  it  was  manifest  in  her  tones  as  she 
resumed — 

'•  I  repeat,  it  is  a  scandalous  shame  that  Mr.  Kingswell — 
a  deacon  in  our  holy  church — should  not  only  suffer  himself 
to  be  thus  imposed  upon,  but  that  he  should  extend  the 
imposition  to  us.  I  came  here  to-day  for  the  express  pur- 
pose of  speaking  my  mind  to  him." 

He  arrived  at  the  moment ;  before  I  could  meet  them  at 
the  front  door  Stanley  had  bounded  up  the  steps  and  was 
in  the  parlor.  There  were  Mrs.  Mason  and  Mrs.  Jones,  who 
visited  her  very  frequently ;  who  had  actually  courted  her 
society :  why  did  they  sit  there  hearing  all,  upraising  no 
voice  in  her  defence  ?  When  will  woman  learn  to  brave 
censure  and  be  strong  in  the  name  of  the  good  Samaritan 
to  defend  the  right  and  speak  for  each  other  ?  Seeing  that 
none  of  us  were  in  the  parlor,  she  merely  bowed  to  the  assem- 
bled company ;  their  ominous  glances  and  frozen  counte- 
nances chilled  her  to  the  very  soul.  She  withdrew  and 
came  to  me,  her  face  flushed,  her  eyes  brimming,  though 
she  kissed  me  as  usual,  saying  no  word  of  the  palpable  insult 
she  had  received. 

Tea  was  announced.  When  they  were  seated  at  table  Mrs. 
Kingswell  said,  addressing  Stanley : 

"  My  dear,  you  will  preside,  will  you  not  ?  Ladies,  I  pre- 
sume most  of  you  have  met  Miss  Montana?  She  has 
promised  to  attend  our  circles  regularly  ere  long." 

11* 


250  TEE  IfOM'ANAS. 

There  came  no  word  of  answer  to  this  kind  speech  of  the 
hostess;  there  was  an  ominous  silence,  only  broken  by  two 
or  three  affected  coughs,  a  rolling  up  of  Mrs.  Cummins's  sharp 
black  eyes ;  then  there  was  a  suppressed  groan  of  virtuous 
indignation,  scarce  audible,  from  Mrs.  Seaman.  Stanley's 
cheeks  were  glowing ;  hot  drops  swam  in  her  eyes  as  she 
looked  at  me  piteously.  I  answered  her  look  significantly; 
whereupon  she  excused  herself  and  left  the  table.  I  was 
about  to  follow  her  from  the  room,  but  Mr.  Kingswell 
checked  me  by  a  look  that  sent  the  rebellious  blood,  up- 
risen in  ray  face,  back  to  its  channels  again.  Mrs.  Seaman 
cleared  her  throat  once  or  twice  ;  I  think  the  manner  of  our 
host  somewhat  disconcerted  her;  while  his  unassuming  in- 
tegrity commanded  her  reverence,  it  held  her  in  awe. 

"  Mr.  Kingswell,  do  you  know  this  young  female  to  whom 
you  have  introduced  us  ? " 

"  I  do  not  clearly  understand  you,  madam ;  though  it  is 
anything  but  flattering,  the  intimation  that  I  would  recom- 
mend as  instructress  of  the  young  people  in  our  place,  a 
person  with  whom  I  was  not  thoroughly  acquainted." 

His  tones  of  polite  sarcasm  cut  deep,  and  the  old  lady's 
wrath  waxed  warmer  in  proportion. 

"  Then  I  must  understand  you ;  one  of  the  leading  men  in 
our  community  giving  countenance  and  protection  to  a 
person  whose  acts  are  shameless  and  disgraceful." 

I  was  alarmed !  Clyde's  uncle  was  actually  growing  red 
with  suppressed  anger !  Though  he  controlled  himself,  and 
spoke  quietly  in  a  low  hoarse  tone. 

"  In  what  has  Miss  Montana  offended,  may  I  ask  ?  And 
upon  what  ground  do  you  hold  her,  at  an  individual  tribunal, 
responsible  for  said  offence,  even  if  she  has  committed  one  ? " 

I  thought  of  the  great  Spirit  who  said  to  the  woman  of 
Samaria,  "  Who  are  thine  accusers  ? " 


THE  MONTANAS.  251 

"  For  the  sake  of  decency  and  order  we  hold  you  re- 
sponsible for  having  introduced  into  our  midst  a  woman 
who  is  so  lawless  as  to  have  secret  meetings  with  an  ol4 
lover;   a  married  man!   Is  not  this  sufficient?" 

The  old  lady  was  e\ddently  disappointed  in  the  effect  of 
her  intelligence  upon  Mr.  Kingswell.  When  the  matter  as- 
sumed the  form  of  an  accusation  against  him,  he  cared  very 
little  about  it ;  now  he  looked  to  me  for  an  explanation  of 
the  charges  preferred  against  Stanley.  I  addressed  excitedly 
my  vindication  to  him  in  their  hearing. 

"About  three  weeks  since,  as  I  was  going  out  to  walk  I 
paused  at  the  cottage ;  on  being  told  by  Miss  Phoebe  that 
Stanley  had  gone  to  our  old  haunt  on  the  hillside,  I  lost  no 
time  in  joining  her  there ;  soon  after  Mr.  Hayne  came  over ; 
he  had  much  to  tell  us  of  our  friends  in  the  South.  He  said 
his  stay  in  Wayburn  must  be  short ;  his  visit  there  incidental ; 
so  he  souorht  us  out,  after  finding^  neither  of  us  at  home. 
At  our  earnest  joint  solicitation  he  accompanied  us  to  the 
cottage  and  remained  for  tea.  When  Mrs.  Seaman  saw 
Stanley  and  cousin  Warren  walking  in  the  street,  /  was  with 
them  !  She  omitted  to  mention  this  fact,  had  forgotten  it 
probably,  it  was  so  unimportant  an  item  in  making  her  state- 
ment to  you.  I  cannot  think  she  would  willingly  have  done 
so ;  her  narrative  this  afternoon,  which  I  chanced  to  over- 
hear, was  characterized  by  a  disposition  to  be  entirely  just.'''* 

"  Just !  "  he  echoed  with  affable  courtesy.  "  I  am  glad  Mrs. 
Seaman  is  so ;  I  should  regret  exceedingly  to  know  that  my 
lady  friends  were  otherwise  !  or  indeed  that  any  should  be 
so.  There  is  nothing  so  hard  for  any  human  heart  to  bear 
as  injustice ;  we  should  always  endeavor  to  be  charitable  as 
well !   but  at  least  we  should  never  faU  to  be  just." 

"  We  are  oftentimes  grievously  mistaken  in  our  estimates," 
remarked  Mrs.  Seaman,  thoroughly  disconcerted,  fallen  from 


252  THE  MONT  AN  AS. 

her  enormous  height  of  fault-finding  back  upon  generalities. 
She  was  beaten  at  her  own  game,  and  this  was  her  only  ex- 
cuse for  the  shameless  slander  she  had  perpetrated  con- 
cerning my  cousins. 

"  Then,"  said  my  uncle,  "  the  fault  is  not  ours.  If  we, 
in  good  faith,  take  by  the  hand  a  fellow-mortal,  brother  or 
sister,  in  the  great  family  of  humanity  ;  if  they  prove  un- 
worthy to  be  so  called,  there  can  be  no  blame  attached  to 
us.  We  should  not  crush  every  generous,  social  impulse 
through  fear  that  we  might  chance  to  bestow  kindness  in- 
judiciously. Our  reward  shall  be  the  same.  God  alone 
can  decide.  We  have  no  right  in  this  world  to  say  to  any 
man  or  woman,  '  Stand  aside,  I  am  holier  than  thou.'  " 

"  We  can  all  know  what  we  do  not  do,^''  shrieked  the 
little  shrill  voice  of  Mrs.  Cummins,  who  came  opportunely 
to  aid  the  discomfited  Mrs.  Seaman.  "  I  for  one  have 
always  endeavored  to  live  piously  and  keep  the  command- 
ments." 

This  was  said  in  a  choked  voice  with  an  air  of  injured 
innocence ;  and  the  black  eyes  looked  round  the  table  for 
a  sympathetic  confirmation  of  her  assertion.  Mrs.  Kings- 
well  now  spoke  in  a  calm,  clear  voice  : 

"  We  are  none  of  us  sinless.  You  say  you  have  kept 
the  commandments ;  my  friends,  how  did  you  dispose  of 
that  little  injunctiouj  *  Love  thy  neighbor  as  thyself;'  have 
you  not  worked  evil  to  the  injury  of  my  young  friend  here 
without  knowing  her  at  all  I  You  have  condemned  her 
unheard  ;  your  virtual  decision  has  been,  *  Stand  aside,  we 
are  holier  than  thou.'  I  am  less  than  woman  if  I  raise  no 
voice  in  justification  of  her  evidently  harmless  act.  Were 
it  as  you  say,  and  she  was  in  heart  what  you  aflBrm,  in 
Heaven's  name  who  constituted  you  her  accusers  ?  My  hus- 
band shall  tell  you  this  young  girl's  story ;  then,  if  you  wish, 


THE  MONTANA S.  253 

you  may  decide  against  her,  and  tliose  who  are  her  friends." 
She  looked  the  noble  being  she  was,  the  confident  assistant 
of  such  a  husband.  Oh !  that  of  such  men  and  women 
there  were  more  in  the  universe ! 

"  Her  father  was  a  banker  in  New  Orleans,  a  Union  man, 
and  a  high-toned  gentleman  ;  when  the  rebellion  broke  out 
his  family  came  north  for  safety.  On  the  acquisition  by 
Butler  and  his  forces  of  New  Orleans,  his  property  was 
confiscated  with  those  who  were  supposed  to  be  antacronis- 
tic  to  the  government.  Her  beautiful  home  has  since  be- 
come a  barracks  for  the  soldiery.  Stanley,  born  and  reared 
in  luxury  and  wealth,  came  here  from  the  new-made  grave 
of  her  mother.  Wlien  it  was  no  longer  possible  to  obtain 
remittances  from  her  father,  she  conceived  and  executed  a 
plan  for  aiding  herself.  You  are  aware,  Mrs.  Seaman,  that 
she — the  lady  whom  you  seek  to  defame — is  the  sister  of 
my  son-in-law." 

"  Indeed !  "  remarked  the  old  lady  in  a  tone  faint  with 
chagrin ;  "  I  have  forgotten — that  is,  I  think  I  never 
knew " 

"  I  presumed  Mrs.  Seaman  was  aware  of  the  relation- 
ship," remarked  Mrs.  Moore,  a  little  exultantly. 

"I  repeat,"  added  Mr.  Kingswell,  "I  am  suffering  no 
compunctions  of  conscience  for  having  introduced  my 
young  friend  into  your  midst.  In  our  social  circle  she  has 
no  superior  ;  except,  perhaps,  in  point  of  self-righteousness^ 

It  was  the  most  cutting  speech  I  ever  heard  him  make  ; 
though  he  had  been  very  much  tried  that  afternoon,  there 
was  a  victorious  look  on  his  benign  features  as  he  led  the 
way  to  the  garden  and  conservatory.  It  was  yet  daylight; 
there  were  no  young  men  in  the  party ;  Mrs.  S.  could  not, 
of  course,  object  to  going  too.  I  really  pitied  the  poor  old 
creature,  as  I  do  all  those  who  cannot  find  resources  of 


254  THE  MOKTANAS. 

diversion  and  happiness  within  themselves,  and,  like  vnl- 
tures,  must  needs  prey  upon  the  characters  of  others  to  still 
the  cravings  of  an  active  temperament.  I  imagine  the  disci- 
ples of  Mrs.  Grundy  to  be  the  most  utterly  miserable  of  all 
created  creatures.  I  thought,  too,  if  the  poor  soldier-boys, 
toiling  in  a  distant  front,  could  only  know  how  many  good 
names  they  cost,  they  would  shudder  whenever  it  became 
necessary  to  appropriate  any  article  of  apparel  furnished  by 
the  loyal  ladies — of  Wayburn,  for  instance.  Brave  men 
would  rather  hear  the  music  of  a  minie-ball  than  give  ear  to  de- 
traction in  any  form :  they  hate  scandal -mongers,  and  avoid 
them  as  they  would  a  pestilence.  Returning  from  the  garden, 
I  met  Mr.  Kingswell.    He  said,  '  I  am  looking  for  Stanley.'  " 

"  That  is  my  errand,  too,  just  now ;  I  shall  go  further, 
however — I  shall  seek  her  at  the  cottage." 

"I  will  come  presently,  when  I  have  taken  Ala  home — 
when  the  house  is  vacated,  and  Ridgely  is  itself  again." 

He  held  the  child  in  his  arms,  looking  fondly  into  her 
bright  blue  eyes,  while  she  smoothed  lovingly  his  iron-grey 
hair.  Afterwards,  as  I  walked  down  the  garden  path  to 
the  cottage,  I  saw  him  leading  his  little  human  blossom 
among  the  flowers  of  that  home. 

Stanley  sat  near  to  the  open  window;  she  had  been 
weeping,  and  her  face  was  very  pale.  Miss  Phoebe  was  by 
her  side  ;  a  few  silent  tear-drops  fell  upon  her  knitting  as  I 
entered.  There  was  an  expression  upon  the  faces  of  both 
that  kept  me  silent ;  so  I  waited  for  Stanley  to  speak. 

"  Jennie,  I  seek  no  explanation  of  the  outrage  my  feel- 
ings received,  and  the  insult  to  which  I  thoughtlessly  ex- 
posed myself,  a  few  hours  since.  I  only  know  that  my 
friends,  for  my  sake,  were  subjected  to  the  keenest  humilia- 
tion. So  far  as  I  am  concerned,  the  freaks  of  society  affect 
me  very  little — I  can  live  above  them ;  but  this  must  have 


THE  MONTANA S.  255 

wounded  Mr;  and  Mrs.  Kingswell  very  much.  I  will  see 
that  there  shall  be  no  recurrence  of  the  unpleasant  scene." 

I  related  faithfully  all  that  had  occurred  in  her  absence, 
taking  care  to  let  the  blame  fall  where  it  was  most  just  it 
should  fall,  adding :  "  Poor,  malicious,  old  woman,  had  I 
possessed  no  foreknowledge  of  the  facts  in  the  case,  I,  too, 
mio'ht  have  been  one  of  her  converts  to  the  belief  that  vou 
were  really  a  silly  girl." 

"  After  all,  Jennie,  it  was  wrong — that  conference  with 
Mr.  Hayne  ;  I  feel  it  so  now." 

"  That  may  be,  I  will  admit.  From  the  stand-point  of 
society,  it  does  not  appear  to  me  exactly  right ;  but  what 
was  I  to  do?  In  such  cases  we  cannot  be  governed  by 
standard  rules  of  conduct;  cannot  make  laws  for  any  indi- 
vidual instance,  and  may  scarcely  abide  by  any,  in  such 
cases.  I  hold  that  your  love  for  Warren  Hayne  is  sinless. 
You  loved  him  when  he  was  free,  and  it  was  your  chosen 
right  so  to  do.  Could  you  forget  that  love  ?  Ignore  the 
glory  of  it  in  a  day,  or  an  hour  ?  No  !  I  hold  sinless  the 
loves  of  both.  His  might  have  been  otherwise,  for  he  is  a 
man  of  the  world,  Stanley,  and  they  do  not  think  of  things 
as  we  do.  That  same  world,  so  bitter  towards  an  error  in 
our  sex,  is  more  lenient  towards  them.  Their  sense  of  the 
nicer  distinctions  is  necessarily  somewhat  blunted  by  the 
contact.  I  have  faith,  solemn,  boundless,  in  you  both ; 
but  '  dammed  up  passion  is  a  dangerous  thing.'  The  safest 
course  was  to  throw  the  responsibility  upon  his  honor,  and 
trust  him.  I  know  Warren — know  still  that  he  will  keep 
inviolate  that  trust." 

Mr.  Kingswell,  as  he  entered  the  cottage,  caught  the 
last  words  of  what  I  had  been  saying  to  Stanley.  He  laid 
his  hands  almost  reverently  upon  her  bowed  head,  remark- 
ing in  tones  which  I  can  never,  never  forget : 


256  THE  MONT  AN  AS. 

"  My  child,  there  is  some  cross  in  life  for  every  human 
being — this  is  yours.  Bear  it  faithfully  ;  ask  God  to  help 
you,  and  he  will." 

He  had  some  way,  with  his  ready  faculty,  grasped  what 
lay  between  Warren  and  Stanley.  With  what  delicate 
tact  he  had  administered  comfoi-t  to  her  and  to  me,  bear- 
ing my  own  cross  silently  ! 

"  As  regards  the  occurrences  of  this  afternoon,"  he  con- 
tinued, "  it  is  needless  to  ask  that  you  will  not  allow  them 
to  wound  you.  We  are  all  vulnerable  to  these  thinirs. 
There  is  one  consolation,  however :  the  shafts  of  envy  inva- 
riably rebound  from  an  armor  of  truth  and  high  purpose. 
It  is  not  the  better  portion  of  society  that  claim  as  pastime 
such  indulgences.  Whenever  you  see  a  female  given  to 
such  diversions,  you  may  be  assured  she  is  either  very 
illiterate,  or  by  nature  very  coarse.  Refined  society  is 
more  tolerant  with  regard  to  the  faults  and  foibles  of 
its  votaries.  Ignorance  and  prejudice  go  hand  in  hand  in 
this  covert  field  of  action.  That  meant  for  section  is  often 
brought  to  bear  in  individual  instances.  You  may  regard 
yourself  as  quite  a  heroine,  Stanley ;  you  represent  the 
South,  and  must  endure  all  the  hatred  and  mahgnity  direct- 
ed towards  her." 

"I  have  heard  these  things  before.  But  for  this  out- 
break, I  could  utterly  ignore  the  existence  of  any  unplea- 
sant feeling  in  the  community  towards  myself:  but  I  cannot 
bear  that  my  friends  should  suff'er  humiliation  for  my  sake." 

"Oh,  if  that  is  all,  leave  that  to  us;  we  will  assume  and 
bear  it  cheerfully.  Never  allow  it  to  touch  you  again. 
Live  above  it ;  you  are  capable  of  doing  so.  Show  Mrs. 
Seaman  that  she  has  no  power  to  strike  you.  Truth  and 
right  are  their  own  vindicators  and  avengers ;  leave  the 
issue  to  the  arbitration  of  a  higher  power." 


TEE  MONTANAS.  257 

We  watched  him  as  he  went  down  the  path,  the  sha- 
dows closing  round  him ;  his  glorious  soul — the  solitary- 
radiance  shining  through  the  darkness — our  messenger  from 
the  Infinite.  I  remained  with  Stanley  that  night.  She 
sat  up  for  a  long  time,  writing.  Then  she  came  and  sat 
beside  me,  saying : 

"  Oh,  Jennie,  how  I  long  for  the  strong  arm  which  should 
have  been  mine,  yet  failed  me  !  How  frail  and  powerless 
is  woman  to  measure  her  streng-th  with  those  of  her  sex 
who  are  foes  to  every  effort  outside  the  usual  routine. 
Sometimes,  for  days  together,  mind  is  in  the  ascendant ; 
but  I  am  often  made  to  think  that  the  heart  was  only  ga- 
thering strength,  during  the  little  respite,  to  utter  its  bereave- 
ment. Then  a  gTeat  weariness  comes  over  me,  with  con- 
stant longing  for  a  forbidden  idol.  And  I  long  for  death  ; 
the  quietude  of  a  Southern  grave,  beside  my  mother's. 
This  is  a  hard  world,  Jennie,  even  were  there  no  miscon- 
stractions,  no  perversions  and  injustice.  But  Christ  bore 
all  for  us — and  the  death." 

Death  !  Trae,  it  was  our  portion ;  for  her,  the  bright- 
haired  being  at  my  side,  with  youth  in  every  pulse  of  life ; 
for  him,  who  under  the  folds  of  the  old  flag,  wielded  the 
arms  of  his  country's  defence;  and  for  another  brave, 
whose  battle-cry  was :  "  Independence !  the  right  of  self- 
government  for  me  !  " — with  the  mystery  of  an  invincible 
silence  on  lip  and  heart  for  ever.  Alas !  Clyde  Ingram,  for 
aaght  I  knew,  might  lie  cold  and  dead  'neath  the  bright 
flowers  of  his  native  land,  whose  far-away  chimes  rang 
through  the  watches  of  that  solemn  night ! 

We  had,  too,  another  cause  for  distress  ;  we  had  reason 
to  fear  the  safety  of  Uncle  Montana.  A  few  weeks  after 
coming  north  our  remittances  ceased.  From  that  time  we 
had  heard  no  word  from  him,  nor  received  any  intimation  of 


258  THE  MOXTANAS. 

his  whereabouts,  if  li%nng.  Stanley  was  right !  This  was, 
in  truth,  a  hard  world,  and  its  battle-days  to  us  were  full  of 
suspense  and  anguish. 


CHAPTER  XVin. 

"What  next?    I  know  not,  do  not  care; 
Come  pain  or  pleasure,  weal  or  woe  ; 
There's  nothing  which  I  cannot  bear, 

Since  I  have  borne  this  withering  blow." 

Another  summer  went,  its  roses,  sunshine,  and  perfume 
by ;  another  autumn  came — russet,  crisp,  and  sere  to  her 
deserted  haunts.  One  afternoon  Stanley  had  gathered  the 
last  golden-rods  from  the  hillside,  and  arranged  them  in 
vases  on  a  table  at  the  open  window,  near  which  she  sat, 
reading  aloud  to  Miss  Phoebe,  who  as  usual  was  occupied 
with  her  knitting.  Ala  Ray  came  in  for  her  share  of  the 
brightness  and  comfort  of  this  little  nest.  Ala  had  failed 
very  much  in  health  and  strength  recently.  She  clasped 
her  thin  arms  about  Stanley's  neck,  saying  gently — she 
seemed  to  grow  in  gentleness  as  her  strength  wasted,  and  her 
little  tones  were  like  the  chimes  we  often  hear  in  dreams : 

"  Auntie,  mamma  wants  you  to  come  over  to  supper.  We 
think  maybe  papa  will  be  home,  and  we  want  all  together; 
we  hope  to  have  all  except  grandma  Montana ;  she  is  gone, 
you  know." 

Ah !  there  was  another  of  the  household  absent, 
whose  name  the  child  had  never  been  taught  to  lisp; 
he  was  held  a  traitor  to  his  country,  to  the  flag  for  which 
her  father  fought,  and  Ala  Ray  was  too  young  to  re- 
member the  days  when  it  was  not  so !    When  they  two 


THE  MONT  AN  AS.  259 

were  brothers,  in  heart  and  soul ;  as  such  they  should  have 
gone  through  life  together.  I  saw  a  bright  tear  fall  upou 
the  sunny  head  nestled  in  Stanley's  bosom.  I  know  she 
was  thinking  of  the  time  when  it  was  otherwise ;  of  our 
Southern  home ;  how  the  hopes  that  clustered  round  it  had 
been  broken  into  fragments  and  scattered  widely  at  the 
inevitable  mandate  at  other '  time  and  place ;  would  they 
ever  be  gathered  up.     Ala  went  on  to  say. — 

"  Oh  !  Aunty  dear,  if  that  papa  of  mine  could  only  know 
how  much  I  have  wanted  to  see  him,  and  how  I  have  lain 
awake  nights  waiting  for  him  to  speak  just  one  little  word 
to  me !  And  now  that  these  solemn  days  are  here,  and  the 
wind  seems  to  be  crying  about  this  great  war,  I  want  him 
more  than  ever.     I  never  wairt  to  give  him  up  again." 

Ah !  many  a  time  had  that  father  thought  and  dreamed 
of  the  little  face  that  looked  to  him  through  silent  falling 
tears  on  lea\dng  home,  and  the  little  heart  that  waited  for 
him  there.  Oh !  days  that  had  been  !  days  that  were  to  be ! 
Of  which  did  we  think  most  then ;  and  on  which  lay  the 
shadow  heaviest  as  we  came  up  the  teiTaced  walks  dotted 
with  autumn  flowers  ? 

"Auntie  !  I  think  of  all  the  flowers  I  like  the  daisies  best 
of  any  I  know.  They  are  so  small  and  white,  and  lie  so 
still  on  the  grass  in  spring-time,  as  though  waiting  for  God's 
fingers  to  gather  them  up." 

AVe  raised  our  eyes !  A  paii"  of  manly  arms  were  out- 
stretched ;  his  little  daughter  was  held  fast  in  a  close  firm 
grasp.  Ala's  head  lay  on  her  father's  breast.  Why  did 
he  hold  her  so  tightly  ?  He  had  heard  her  words,  and 
feared  God's  fingers  would  pluck  his  daisy  ere  the  spring- 
time. The  child  wept  for  joy  as  though  her  little  life 
would  go  out ;  all  the  while  saying  brokenly,  how  much 
she  had  wanted   him,  that   she  would  never  let  him  go 


260  TUE  MONTANA  S. 

again ;  then  entreating  him  to  stay  with  her  as  long  as 
she  lived.  lie  promised  lier  all  she  asked,  as  she  smoothed 
Hs  crisp  curls  and  kissed  his  face  over  and  over  with  her 
soft  lips.  Oh  !  liow  he  had  longed  to  be  with  therii !  And 
how  could  he  ever  leave  his  home-idols  again !  Poor  man's 
weak  heart  fails  him  sometimes !  No  wonder ;  life  and 
fate  hold  for  him  such  hard  trial  tests. 

"  Mamma,  don't  you  leave  him  ?  "   Ala  said. 

"  Yes,  daughter  ;  though  you  have  given  mamma  no  op- 
portunity to  say  so.  Stand  down,  and  let  papa  look  at  his 
little  pet." 

"  ^Tiy,  how  tall  she  has  grown,  and  thin,"  he  added  aside  to 
Mary,  in  a  paiued  voice.    "  Oh,  I  hope  she  will  improve  now." 

"  I  was  so  tired !  so  tired  for  you  to  come  home,  papa ! " 

So  saying,«he  climbed  into  his  lap  and  was  soon  asleep.  He 
laid  her  in  the  little  crib.  Then  we  all  knelt,  while  Mr.  Kings- 
well  thanked  God  for  our  hero's  return  in  safety.  When  we 
were  all  seated  round  the  tea-table,  Raymond  remarked  : 

"  And  so  you  are  all  here  to  meet  me !    This  is  pleasant." 

" yl/Z, Raymond,"  Stanlfey  asked  significantly;  "have  you 
forgotten?" 

"  No,  sister ;  I  have  not  forgotten — I  cannot  forget  who 
is  absent,  and  how  he  remains  away.  Many  a  time  since  I 
have  been  a  soldier  in  the  service  of  my  country  I  would 
have  given  a  world,  had  it  been  mine,  to  have  shaken  hands 
with  him  under  the  folds  of  the  old  flag.  I  could  better 
have  borne  to  see  him  fall,  as  I  have  seen  thousands,  than 
to  think  of  him  as  he  is." 

Then  he  talked  of  his  campaign — of  the  Fredericksburg 
slaughter — of  the  thirty  thousand  braves  sacrificed  to  so 
little  purpose.  Then  of  home  and  its  concerns  !  Of  Ala — 
very  gently,  with  that  feeling  tremor  in  his  voice,  which 
I  always  fancied  I  could  hear  when  I  read  his  letters  to 


THE  MONTANA  S.  261 

Mary,  in  which  he  never  failed  to  say,  "  Take  good  care  of 
papa's  little  daughter."  Then  we  came  and  sat  by  her  side 
as  she  lay  sleeping.  No  more  words  now  of  storm  and 
conflict.  We  felt  that  angels  were  on  guard  that  night 
watching  the  soldier  and  his  child. 

The  following  day  was  spent  by  us  all  at  Ridgely  ;  the 
next  with  Stanley  in  her  cottage  home.  During  the  after- 
noon I  received  a  letter  from  Cousin  Warren.  He  wrote 
briefly  ;  yet  in  the  few  sentences  of  commendation  I  felt 
how  much  Stanley,  going  on  fi-om  day  to  day  in  her  round 
of  patient  duty,  claimed  his  reverence.  He,  from  his  stand- 
point, traced  her  path,  and  felt  how  nobly  and  firmly  she 
walked  in  it.  He  sent  some  books  fi'om  Paris  for  our  joint 
perusal,  and  begged  that  we  would  not  forget  him.  He 
spoke  of  his  own  land,  and  the  hearts  in  it  that  were  bleed- 
ing to  the  death,  and  how  he  longed  to  be  at  home.  The 
letter  bore  date  just  one  year  from  his  visit  to  Wayburn. 
That  evening,  as  we  sat  together  on  the  piazza  at  Uncle 
Kingswell's — Raymond  playing  with  his  little  daughter — I 
remembered  how,  in  the  first  summer  days,  we  had  sat  there 
with  those  two  present  Avho  were  absent  now.  One  beyond 
the  sea ;  the  other  further  off",  beyond  countless  seas  of 
ceaseless  strife. 

The  next  day  brought  Milverton  to  Ridgely.  He  in- 
quired for  me ;  on  being  infonned  that  I  was  at  the  cottage, 
he  sent  down  the  letter  he  had  brought.  It  was  from  Lane 
Austin.  I  afterwards  learned  how  he  obtained  it ;  hearing 
that  Gerald  was  a  prisoner  at  Washington,  he  visited  him 
for  the  purpose  of  learning  something  of  Clyde.  On  being 
told  that  Lane  w^as  probably  the  only  person  w^ho  could  give 
him  any  information,  he  wrote  at  once.  By  the  exercise  of 
considerable  strategy  he  succeeded  in  posting  his  letter,  and 
obtaining  an  answer  addressed  to  me,  which  rau  as  follows  : 


262  THE  MONTANA S. 

"  I  will  dispense  with  preliminaries,  Miss  Aljean,  in  telling 
you  all  I  know  concerning  our  beloved  Colonel  Ingram.  I  will 
say  nothing  of  the  preference  that  you  manifested  for  him 
when  we  were  all  at  home.  How  long  since  I  have  had  a 
home  save  in  the  field.  It  was  enough,  in  the  days  of  hard- 
ship, to  realize  how  much  more  worthy  of  your  esteem  he 
was  than  I.  Had  it  been  the  fullest  measure  of  which  your 
woman's  heart  is  capable,  the  boon  was  richly  merited,  for 
a  braver  man  to  work  for  country,  for  independence,  and  for 
God,  I  have  never  seen.  But  he  is  dead !  I  saw  our  sol- 
diers weeping  while  they  dug  his  grave  in  a  Southern  wil- 
derness. I  can  never  express  a  tithe  of  what  I  felt  in  that 
bitter  hour.  I  would  have  died  to  save  him,  for  I  loved 
him  better  than  any  one  else  in  the  world ! — than  my  own 
brother,  who  pines  to-day  in  a  Northern  prison. 

"  Our  Colonel  went  himself  with  a  small  detachment  on  a 
scouting  expedition.  They  remained  absent  so  long  I  grew 
anxious,  and  went  in  search  of  them.  I  met  some  of  his 
men  returning  to  camp  !  They  reported  a  skirmish,  in 
which  the  Colonel  had  been  killed.  I  ordered  them  to  pilot 
us  to  the  spot  where  they  had  left  him.  It  was  difficult  to 
keep  the  direction ;  a  heavy  rain  was  falling ;  we  were  at- 
tacked once  and  driven  into  our  fortifications.  We  made 
another  attempt,  carrying  a  flag  of  truce ;  we  determined, 
if  possible,  to  recover  the  body  of  the  Colonel  at  all  haz- 
ards. So  many  delays  were  involved  in  the  prolonged 
search,  his  face  was  unrecognizable !  The  faces  of  all  the 
fallen  men  were  marred  and  discolored  by  the  drenching 
rains.  He  lay  near  to  his  faithful  steed — one  which  he  al- 
ways rode  when  on  his  plantation ;  the  creature's  head  was 
near  his  master's  shoulder.  There,  in  a  wilderness  of  green, 
the  blue  sky  over  him,  dust  below,  our  soldiers  made  his 
grave  and  fired  their  volleys  over  him  !     I  have  seen  many 


THE  MONTANAS.  263 

fall,  Miss  Aljean,  since  that  last  evening  at  Claremont.  I 
have  looked  upon  death  in  almost  every  form  !  I  have  seen 
it  in  camp,  in  fort  and  hospital,  by  the  wayside  and  on 
battle-fields ;  have  seen  my  near  relatives — those  who  were 
once  possessed  of  thousands — starving  for  a  crust,  but 
nothing  ever  affected  me  like  this;  he  was  my  friend — 
brother ;  on  the  march  and  in  camp  we  had  faced  death 
together.  But  the  arch-enemy  had  come  to  him  when  I 
was  not  near  to  claim  a  parting  pressure  of  his  hand  and 
treasure  his  last  words.  It  was  hard  to  think  there  was  no 
kind  voice  to  break  the  last,  long  silence,  as  it  closed  about 
him." 

I  was  glad  no  one  was  near  me.  It  chanced  that  I  was 
alone  in  Stanley's  little  chamber.  The  grim  eternal  silence 
seemed  closing  about  me,  too ;  iron  bars  were  pressing  on 
my  heart ;  oh,  it  was  bursting.  I  was  reeling,  suffocating. 
I  passed  into  the  garden,  found  Stanley,  gave  her  the  letter ; 
she  read  it  while  I  walked  about  recklessly  crushing  the 
autumn  flowers  under  my  impatient  feet.  Stanley  wept, 
exclaiming  in  broken  sentences  : 

"  Poor  Clyde,  poor  dear  brother !  Oh,  Jennie,  I  am  so 
sorry  that  I  sent  him  away  that  time,  he  seemed  so  solitary 
and  desolate ;  those  whom  he  loved  to  him  were  stony- 
hearted. Oh,  why  did  not  you  care  for  him  and  save  him  !  " 
My  heart  grew  hard  as  I  looked  upon  her ;  then  I  could 
speak  the  taunt,  but  not  the  anguish  I  felt : 

"  Stanley  Montana,  do  not  stand  there  mocking  me  ;  do 
anything  else  you  choose ;  pity  me,  for  I  loved  Clyde 
Ingram,  have  done  so  for  years  and  years ;  loved  him,  and 
he  loved  me  ;  I  shall  go  mad  that  I  have  lost  him."  I 
threw  myself  upon  the  ground  ;  there,  lying  on  the  crushed 
flowers,  I  defied  the  smiting  hand  that  had  stricken  him. 
Yes,  God  forgive  me,  in  that  bitter  moment  I  uttered  a 


"264  TUE  MONTANAS. 

tortuous  malediction  against  tlie  power  that  had  bereft  me. 
Night  came  down  with  its  cool  dews  from  the  fountain  of 
His  immutable  love ;  as  they  fell  upon  my  thirsting  soul 
tears  came  to  my  relief.  As  I  lay  there  the  autumn  moon 
rose  up — the  moon  that  shone,  and  the  autumn  that  dropped 
its  leaves  upon  his  distant  grave.  The  heart  of  the  universe 
had  ceased  to  pulsate.  His  life-task  was  ended;  he  was 
gone  from  the  canker  that  cuts  into  the  soul  with  its  slow 
charges  and  takes  the  bloom  from  life  ;  gone  from  the  sud- 
den casualties,  the  sad  possibilities  and  probabilities,  which 
are  but  other  names  for  the  freaks  of  human  destiny. 
Never  more  would  they  crash  through  his  heartrstrings  wdth 
sudden  desolation,  as  they  had  done  through  mine.  He 
-was  sleeping,  we  were  weeping.  It  was  my  cross  in  life, 
this  death,  and  I  must  bear  it  to  the  end.  The  ponderous 
machinery  of  the  universe  crashed  on  as  though  he  slept  not. 

We  were  to  have  company  in  the  evening ;  how  much 
the  seal  which  had  hitherto  set  upon  my  lips  and  life  aided 
me  in  crushing  down  the  inward  strife.  I  went  into  Stanley's 
little  bed-chamber,  lay  looking  out  of  the  window  upon  the 
widespread  busy  universe,  which  held  for  me  nothing  save 
its  category  of  grim  silences.  By-and-by  I  saw  Raymond 
and  Milverton  coming ;  how  cheerful  and  indifferent  they 
looked. 

Captain  Montana  wore  the  uniform  of  our  country — the 
insignia  which  asserted  grimly  and  vaunted  to  my  sick  heart 
that  he  was  the  dead  man's  enemy.  For  an  instant  I  could 
not  look  down  into  the  deeps  where  the  old  brotherhood 
rested  pure,  unsullied  by  passion  or  sectional  prejudice. 
Now  I  only  thought  how  two  countries,  whose  widely  dis- 
severed interests  and  aims  had  come  between,  and  how  one 
lay  in  his  far-off  sleep,  with  none  to  mourn  him  save  the 
silent  heart    w^hose   love  for   him  was  all   untold.     These 


THE  MONTANAS.  265 

thoughts  were  passing  througli  my  mind  wMle  I  heard 
Raymond  entreating  one  of  their  visitors,  Miss  Radway,  to 
sing.     I  lay  spell-bound,  listening  to  the  words : 

"  "When  our  boys  come  home  in  triumph,  brother, 
"With  the  laurels  they  shall  gain ; 
"When  we  meet  to  give  them  welcome,  brother, 
"We  shall  look  for  you  in  vain." 

Her  voice  was  tremulous  with  intense  pathos  as  she  sang 
the  closing  half  of  the  last  stanza : 

"  Surely  we  would  not  recall  you,  brother, 
Though  our  tears  flow  fast  and  free. 
When  we  think  of  you  as  sleeping,  brother. 
Underneath  that  southern  tree." 

My  heart  melted  as  I  looked  at  Raymond,  who  sat  near 
the  open  door,  for  I  saw  a  brother's  sorrow  under  the  calm 
exterior  of  the  soldier.  "  Where  is  Jennie  ? "  he  inquired 
suddenly;  when  Stanley  answered  him  he  came  and  sat 
beside  my  sofa,  talking  casually  of  many  things.  At  length, 
with  the  air  of  one  who  had  long  evaded  what  must  be 
faced,  he  spoke : 

"  Jennie,  Mary,  and  I  will  go  to  Washington  to-morrow ; 
will  you  bear  us  company  ? "  After  a  pause  he  continued : 
"  I  am  very  sorry,  Aljean "  the  sentence  was  not  con- 
cluded, for  he  saw  how  I  shuddered  as  with  the  chill  of 
that  death.  I  think  he  now,  for  the  first  time,  realized 
my  love  for  Clyde  Ingram.  Notwithstanding  my  silent 
pain,  which  he  felt  as  keenly  as  I  did,  he  asked,  while  a  beam 
came  into  his  face : 

"  And  is  it  true,  Jennie  ? "  Yes,  it  was  true ;  one  of 
God's  truths,  which  time  or  change,  death  or  eternity  could 
not  annul.     Yes  !  I  would  go  with  them ;  I  told  him  so : 

12 


266  THE  MONTANAS. 

I  would  see  Gerald  Austin  myself,  and  inquire  his  brother's 
address,  which  Lane  had  omitted  to  give  me. 

The  following  morning  found  Raymond  and  Mary,  Ala  and 
myself,  en  route  for  the  capital.  We  paused  but  a  few  hours 
in  Xew  York ;  grey  mists  lifted  up  their  shadowy  arms  to 
salute  the  moruinof  sun  as  it  streaked  the  bosom  (>f  the 
Delaware  while  we  crossed.  Some  Government  boats  were 
loosed  from  their  moorings,  and  in  the  brooding  stillness  I 
heard  workmen  at  the  forge  singing,  "Maryland,  ray  Mary- 
land." I  thought  then,  as  I  have  ever  since,  it  was  the 
finest  lyric  poem  of  the  age.'  In  those  wild,  wailing  tones 
of  appeal,  I  caught  the  enthusiasm  which  must  have  ani- 
mated many  a  heart  to  do  and  dare  what  those  southern 
hearts  have  done  for  country  and  the  love  of  it. 

We  soon  saw  the  glittering  domes  and  spires  of  the  capi- 
tal, bordered  with  its  broad  white  sheet  of  Potomac,  be- 
yond which,  upon  the  plains  of  Virginia,  stood  bulwarks  of 
a  nation's  strength,  in  an  attitude  of  appeal  to  the  god  of 
victory.  What  was  Washinirton  o-rown  to  be  ?  From  halls 
where  sti'ong-armed,  calm-faced  Justice  was  wont  to  rise 
and  speak  his  mandates,  to  the  inheritors  of  a  common 
country,  were  heard  now  only  the  croaking  voices  of  dema- 
gogues, who  instantly  set  hard  heels  upon  any  white  bud 
of  peace  that  dared  to  lift  its  modest  head,  with  timid 
promise  of  blossom,  amid  the  strife. 

When  we  became  settled  at  our  hotel,  I  went  with  Ray- 
mond to  seek  Gerald.  He  obtained,  through  Captain  Mon- 
tana's numerous  friends,  admission  to  his  prison.  It  was 
a  strange  interview  !  He  seemed  as  if  he  wished  to  talk  of 
everything  but  what  my  heart  most  longed  to  hear.  Yet 
in  all  he  said,  there  were  no  broken  sentences  of  repent- 
ance ;  no  regrets,  no  repinings — only  a  sullen  persistence 
in  his  political  fallacy,  through  which  shone  a  dogged  spirit 


THE  MONT  AN  AS.  267 

of  resistance,  wliich  might  be  crushed  but  never  wholly 
extinguished,  even  within  the  walls  of  a  dungeon.  He  was 
kind,  polite,  respectful ;  yet  we  could  leara  from  him 
nothing  more  concerning  Clyde's  death  than  we  already 
knew.  We  failed  even  to  procure  Lane's  address,  which 
was  our  chief  design  in  going  there.  So  we  came  back  to 
Weyburn  after  our  hopeless  journey.  As  we  recrossed 
the  Delaware  at  night,  the  stars  seemed  to  look  down  with 
a  pitying  radiance  into  the  troubled  abysses  of  my  soul ! 
and  I  heard  a  voice  which  said  to  the  lashing  waves — 
"  Peace  !  be  still." 


CHAPTER  XIX. 

"  For  what  is  life  ?  at  best,  a  brief  delight ; 

A  sun  scarce  brightening  ere  it  sinks  in  night : 
A  flower  at  morning  fresh,  at  noon  decayed; 
A  still  swift  river  gliding  into  shade." 

During  our  visit,  Ala  had  pined  for  the  atmosphere  of  her 
own  home.  She  seemed  to  grow  weary  of  all  things  about 
her,  and  said  she  wanted  to  rest.  "When  we  brought  her 
back  she  would  lie  ofttimes  in  her  little  bed  so  still  that  we 
grew  alarmed.  We  began  to  devise  means  by  which  we 
could  avail  ourselves  of  medical  aid,  without  having  her 
suspect  we  thought  her  really  ill.  Accordingly,  Raymond 
brought  Dr.  Berkley  ;  ostensibly  to  dine — really  to  admi- 
nister to  our  pet.  She  w^as  a  favorite  with  him,  as  she  was 
with  all  who  knew  her.  He  laid  her  golden  head  against 
his  cheek,  adroitly  examined  her  pulse,  but  his  face  gave 
no  sign  that  he  thought  our  darling  in  danger.  We  were 
reassured  by  his  manner ;  our  chilly  fears  took  once  more 


268  THE  MONTANAS 

the  warm  hue -of  hope;  we  caught  the  sunshine  of  the 
brief  interval  that  was  to  elapse  before  we  must  give  her  up 
finally.     For  this  we  were  onlv  waitincf. 

Raymond  had  made  his  preparations  with  a  view  to 
returning  to  camp.  His  leave  of  absence  was  already 
expired ;  on  the  morrow  he  would  go. 

The  eve  before  his  leave-taking,  he  and  Mary  had  a  little 
conference — half  sad,  half  hopeful — about  home  concerns 
and  Ala — how  she  would  bear  the  blow.  I  left  them  and 
went  down  to  the  cottage.  Crisp  leaves  were  lying  on  the 
garden  path,  and  the  autumn  sky  hung  down  its  banners 
of  crimson  which  shone  through  the  swaying  trees,  remind- 
ing one  of  altar-fires  lifting  up  their  everlasting  incense  to 
the  Creator,  gratefully.  I  thought  how  on  distant  fields, 
where  the  dead  lay  white  and  still,  gleamed  other  banners, 
red  with  the  gore  of  our  hearts'  chosen  idols.  With  these 
reflections  pressing  heavily,  it  was  natural  I  should  seek  to 
avoid  meeting  Mr.  Milverton,  whom  I  observed  coming  up 
the  path.  I  had  special  reasons  for  not  wishing  to  see 
him,  but  there  was  no  escape.  We  shook  hands ;  then  he 
said  his  say  earnestly  : 

"  I  am  very  grateful,  Miss  Jennie,  for  this  opportunity  of 
seeing  you  alone  before  I  return  to  Xew  York.  I  have 
something  which  I  must  say,  though  you  will  doubtless 
think  me  a  sorry  old  fool  for  having  said  it ;  but  I  am  tired 
of  what  the  gay  world  calls  pleasure !  I  have  money, 
friends,  and  health  ;  but  I  want  a  home  of  my  own.  I  am 
just  beginning  to  realize  how  dreadfully  selfish  a  bachelor 
is.  Now  here  I  am,  roaming  round,  while  you,  a  little  frail 
creature,  are  moping,  growing  pale,  for  want  of  somebody 
to  nurse  you  up  and  care  for  you.  I  propose  to  do  that ; 
I  want  you — your  presence — in  the  home  I  shall  make , 
want  you  here  in  my  heart  to  still  its  cravings — to  make 


THE  MONTANAS.  269 

ine  a  better,  nobler   man  tban  I  am.     Will  you  be  my 

wife?" 

I  raised  my  band  deprecatingly  !  bis  words  jarred  pain- 
fally  a  sensitive  cbord  in  my  sore  beart,  tbat  would  never 
again  vibrate  witb  tenderness  for  any  man  living.     I  an- 
swered bim  witb  energy,  not  a  little  amused  despite  myself. 
"  No,  no,  not  your  wife  !     Wby,  Mr.  Milverton,  you  do 
not  know  me,  or  ratber  you  do  not  know  yourself.     You 
care  no  more  for  me  tban  for  five-and-twenty  otber  young 
girls  in  your  circle.     I  am  as  jealous  by  nature  as  a  Blue- 
beard, and  could  never  consent  to  occupy  sucb  a  tiny  nook 
in  any  man's  beart,  especially  yours.    Large  as  it  is,  I  sbould 
want  tbe  wbole  of  it.     Besides,  do  not  want  to  marry  me.on 
account  of  my  paleness  ;  I  may  transfer  tbat  to  you  wben 
I  tell  you,  tbat  immediately  on  becopiing  mistress  of  your 
prospective  borne,  I  sbould  resort  to  a  vigorous  use  of  my 
tono-ue,  in  order  to  induce  you  to  abandon  all  your  innocent 
amusements,  sucb  as  balls,  soirees,  tbeatres,  &c.,  and  settle 
down  demurely  into  quiet  life.     Tben  you  would  be  com- 
pelled to  stop  flirting.    One  of  tbe  natural  matrimonial  re- 
sults is,  tbat  a  man  sbaU  give  up  kissing  all  tbe  pretty  girls 
in  bis  circle,  even  tbougb  tbat  man  were  Mr.  Milverton,  a 
gay  bacbelor  of  tbirty-five.     See  wbat  a  martyr  you  must 
necessarily  become." 

"  Now,  now.  Miss  Jennie,  I  protest  most  solemnly.  By 
tbe  way,  wbat  bas  so  suddenly  sobered  you?  I  bave  not 
forgotten  a  few  seasons  since  you  were  tbe  most  inveterate 
coquette  present  at  Nabant." 

"  Ab !  my  friend,  tbe  soul  seems  to  bave  gone  out  of 
everytbing  since  tben :  tbe  land  is  full  of  sorrow.  I  am 
desperately  earnest  now  in  all  I  say  and  do." 

"  So  am  I.  I  design  quitting  all  my  bad  practices — get- 
ting married,  just  for  tbe  novelty." 


270  TEE  MONTANA  S. 

"  Then  let  me  inform  you,  that  unless  you  have  in  the 
matter  more  genuine  feeling  than  your  tone  and  manner 
would  suggest,  matrimony  will  prove  anything  but  a  novel 
performance," 

"  I  suppose  you  think  one  should  be  deeply  in  love — 
well,  what  is  it  ?  Let  me  define  love  for  you :  It  is  a  flame 
that  bums  itself  out  with  the  ardor  of  youth.  Refined  in- 
tercourse in  a  social  circle  will  produce  a  comfortable  state 
of  amicable  feeling.  In  some  instances,  we  find  those 
whose  companionship  is  a  source  of  rare  delight,  and  con- 
fers upon  us,  as  individuals,  a  happiness  which  all  the 
world  beside  would  fail  to  supply.  Beyond  this  there  is 
little  for  men  who  have  arrived  at  my  age.  I  should 
give  you  as  much  tenderness,  perhaps,  as  any  of  my 
sex." 

"  Oh,  I  am  thankful  for  the  privilege  of  looking  upon 
human  nature  from  my  own  stand-point !  Throw  away 
those  spectacles,  Mr.  Milverton.  Do  not  imagine  all  the 
world  is  looking  through  them,  when  it  is  only  yourself. 
I  am  not  yet  so  callous  to  the  genuine  attributes  of  man- 
kind, that  I  can  afford  to  dispense  with  love  in  my  union. 
I  want  that  something — a  presence  vast  enough  to  cover 
all  the  earth,  and  in  one  little  space  where  it  is  not,  1 
want  to  feel  as  if  impenetrable  darkness  had  settled ;  a  sen- 
timent which  came  from  God  with  messages  of  a  hope  that 
may  be  eternal,  alone,  enduring  as  the  stars.  Then,  though 
there  may  be  long,  sad  farewells,  and  heart-tears  never  dry  ; 
grim  silences  of  death  and  separations  that  stretch  through 
time  to  the  white  portals  yonder,  beyond  those  crimson  clouds 
of  sunset ;  yet,  too,  there  may  be  something  beyond  those 
broad  slopes  of  the  everlasting  life,  in  that  heaven  which 
ig  love's  true  abiding-place."  I  checked  myself  suddenly, 
as  I  felt  the  red  flash  into  my  cheeks  beneath  Milverton's 


THE  MONTANAS.  271 

gaze  of  pitying  scrutiny.  The  question  fell  from  Ms  lips 
unconsciously : 

.  "  Have  you  ever  loved  tliat  love,  Jennie,  whose  hope  is 
here  of  fruition  there  ? " 

"  Yes ;  I  did  love !  My  heart  attests  the  truth ;  it  is 
over  now.  He  walked  through  earth  a  king  among  men  ; 
he  is  dead  I  All  the  world  cannot  give  me  back  what  died 
with  him.  I  have  told  you  enough ;  let  the  subject  never 
recur  between  us."  I  gav^e  him  my  hand,  over  which  he 
bowed  in  silent  acquiescence,  then  left  me.  I  saw  him 
enter  the  gate  at  Ridgely  ere  I  joined  Stanley  at  the  cot- 
tage. It  was  twilight ;  the  lamps  were  not  yet  lighted ; 
the  glow  of  the  wood-fire  was  upon  Stanley's  cheek,  and 
golden  rings  of  hair  broke  like  beams  of  sunlight  through 
her  net,  and  lay  upon  her  dark  dress  caressingly.  Those 
tresses  of  hers  would  not  bear  confinement ;  they  were 
rebelHous  as  her  nature,  for  I  saw  tears  upon  her  cheeks 
which  told  me  that  she  wore  not  her  harness  patiently  that 
evening.  I  gathered  her  head  to  my  bosom  and  asked 
her  why  she  wept. 

"  I  was  thinking,  dear,  what  a  strange  and  wayward  fate 
has  been  ours !     Of  that  love  of  yours  whose  glory  was  hid 

in  a  tomb  ;  and  mine .     Oh,  it  is  no  light  thing  I — the 

task  of  learning  to  live  without  some  one  to  cling  to,  whose 
love  is  all  your  own.  Do  not  interrupt  me  ;  1  am  talking 
of  nothing,  want  nothing  that  belongs  of  right  to  Warren 
Hayne's  wedded  wife.  But  I  do  so  often  miss  what  was 
given  me  ;  that  which,  but  for  the  treachery  of  some,  would 
have  been  mine." 

"  I  know,  darling,  you  miss  what  should  have  been  yours, 
and  will  do  so  more  and  more,  as  you  go  on  through  life. 
There  are  many  in  the  world  who  care  for  us,  more  or  less, 
but  there  are  very  few  w^ho  really  love  us.     Our  mother 


2V2  THE  MONTANAS. 

did — our  brother — he  leaves  us  to-morrow.  Ah,  here  he 
is  ;  another  farewell ! "  Ray  sat  with  us  some  time,  affect- 
ing to  talk  cheerfully,  though  it  was  plain  to  see  how  the 
soldier's  heart  was  bowed  low;  that  the  separation  was 
inevitable.     Of  Ala  he  thought  most  of  all. 

"  It  will  break  her  little  heart  to  know  that  I  am  going. 
^e  must  bring  her  down  here.  When  she  finds  that  I  am 
really  gone,  you  girls  niay  be  better  able  to  pacify  her  than 
her  mother.  Poor  Mary  is  herself  so  miserable.  You  will 
manage  it,  Jennie,  will  you  not  ?  I  cannot  bear  to  have 
her  torn  from  me.  This  seems  the  only  course  left 
me." 

"  Yes ;  I  will  endeavor  to  ^o  so,  Ray,  but  you  must  pro- 
mise me  that  when  your  term  expires,  you  will  come  home 
to  stay.     Ala  needs  you  more  than  your  country,  just  now." 

"  All,  that  is  a  woman's  view  of  the  case !  You  would 
not  make  a  good  soldier,  Jennie." 

My  face  flushed ;  I  saw  he  did  not  comprehend  my  mean- 
ing. I  could  not  speak  more  plainly.  I  could  not  look 
that  father  iu  the  face  and  tell  him  of  the  slow-breaking 
heart-strings  of  his  only  child,  so  I  only  answered : 

"  At  all  events,  Raymond,  should  I  send  for  you  at  any 
lime,  come  ;  come  quickly,  at  all  hazards." 

He  promised  then.  As  he  was  leaving  the  house  he 
beheld  a  little  white-winged  something,  that  seemed  to  stir 
the  moonlight,  it  was  so  light  and  airy,  coming  down  the 
garden  path.  Raymond  stopped  still,  breathless  with  sus- 
pense and  anguish.  As  the  figure  came  nearer  we  saw  the 
white  dress,  falling  hair,  and  spiritual  face  of  Ala  Ray ;  there 
was  such  tender  love  for  him  shining  in  every  lineament  of 
his  daughter's  face  as  she  exclaimed: 

"  Oh,  papa,  why  did  you  not  take  me  with  you  ?  I  have 
sought  you  everywhere.    I  have  been  so  unhappy  since  you 


TEE  MOKTAyAS.  273 

went,  and  left  mamma  crying  dear — ^blessed  mamma ;  and, 
oh,  your  little  Ala  was  so  miserable." 

"  "Why,  my  little  pet,  do  you  think  you  could  not  get 
along  •  without  papa  for  a  little  while  ?  AATiat  would  my 
darling  do  if  I  should  go  away  again  to  stay  ? " 

She  anwered  musingly : 

"  I  am  sure  I  don't  know,  though  I  think  I  should  die  ! " 

Ray  looked  at  me  piteously,  while  the  child  glanced 
eagerly,  apprehensively,  from  one  to  the  other.  She  put 
her  arms  close  about  her  father's  neck,  nestled  up  to  him, 
lying  quite  still,  as  if  in  pain,  her  breath  coming  hard 
between  her  set  teeth.  Xo  one  spoke,  no  one  could  just 
then.    x\.t  length  Raymond  said : 

"  My  darling,  your  httle  dress  is  wet  with  heavy  dew, 
you  are  cold,  let  aunty  warm  you  and  then  put  you  in  her 
bed  until  papa  is  ready  to  go  home."  With  a  strange 
silence,  and  obstinacy  entirely  unnatural  to  her,  she  clung 
closely  to  her  father,  refusing  to  be  moved.  At  length  she 
said  in  a  grieved  tone : 

"  Papa,  why  did  you  ask  me  what  I  should  do  if  you 
were  to  leave  me  again  ? "  Raymond  understood  from  ray 
face  that  he  must  tell  her  all  about  it. 

"Because,  my  darling,  papa  is  compelled  to  rejoin  his 
regiment.  He  must  leave  you  for  a  little  while,  but  when 
the  spring  is  here,  and  there  are  many  flowers  in  auntie's 
grounds,  adown  the  pretty  garden  way,  I  will  come  and 
stay  with  you  all  the  time  !  " 

There  was  no  outburst,  only  she  trembled  a  great  deal, 
and  the  little  face,  down  which  the  still  tears  trickled, 
seemed  to  grow  momently  whiter,  more  transparent ;  faster, 
harder  came  her  breath  through  the  quivering  lips.  Seeing 
that  Raymond  was  unable  to  articulate  one  word,  we  be- 
sought her,   Stanley  and  I,  to  remain  with  us ;  all  in  vain. 

12* 


274  THE  MONTANAS. 

In  answer  to  our  entreaties,  she  said  in  a  choked  voice,  that 
surprised  us  for  its  calmness: 

"  No,  no,  I  cannot  leave  my  papa  to-night !  Now,  auntie, 
do  not  take  me  from  him  at  the  last.  If  he  must  go,  I  will 
try  and  bear  it  as  well  as  I  can ! " 

Oh,  it  was  so  touching ;  the  recognition  of  the  exigency 
which  separated  them.  Many  a  person  who  had  grown 
saintly,  resisting  tribulations ;  who,  in  the  hard  service  of 
the  worid,  had  become  inured  to  disappointment ;  might 
have  learned  a  lesson  from  that  child,  in  her  patient  accept- 
ance of  what  seemed  inevitable ;  of  the  sorrow  which  almost 
broke  her  little  heart.  Raymond  recognised  it,  and  exclaim- 
ed passionately : 

"  My  brave,  noble  child  !  you  are  more  a  hero  than  papa, 
little  one ;  and  you  shall  stay  with  him  as  long  as  you  can, 
and  papa  will  come  back  to  you  very  soon." 

"  Before  daisies  blossom,  papa  ?  and  the  grass  grows  green 
again  in  the  old  church-yard,  and  myrtle  upon  the  rough 
sides  of  gilead  trees,  where  the  little  birds  build  their  nests 
in  ^aisy  times  ?  And  you  will  think  of  your  little  daughter 
often  when  you  go  again  to  sleep  under  the  stars  ? " 

"Yes,  yes,  dariing!"  he  answered,  soothingly;  "and 
papa  will  svrite  many  letters  to  his  Uttle  girl ;  won't  that  be 
nice  ? " 

"  But  then,  dear  papa,  you  will  not  be  here  to  romp  with 
me  in  the  morning  times.  I  could  bear  to  do  without  you 
through  the  long  days,  but  in  the  evenings,  oh,  I  shall  want 
you  so  much ;  how  can  I  ever  do  \N-ithout  you  ? " 

Ah !  he  could  not  tell  her  that ;  the  father,  with  his 
broken  voice  and  sinking  heart.  He  rose,  saying  he  would 
take  the  child  to  her  mother,  passed  out  into  the  wan  light 
of  the  autumn  moon,  hanging  just  above  the  garden  path ; 
that  home-way,  where  the  summer  flowers  were  faded  and 


TEE  MONTANAS.  21  b' 

leaves  were  lying  crisp,  o'er  which  an  angel's  feet  had  come 
to  guide  him  to  the  very  portals  where  they  should  part, 
father  and  child,  not  to  meet  again  in  an  earthly  spring-time. 
Not  yet,  not  yet,  the  bright  doors  unclosed;  why?  the 
keeper's  hand  was  on  the  latch ;  was  there  yet  some  mission 
unaccomplished  ?  Our  hold  of  her  seemed  so  frail  that  a 
breath  might  destroy  it ;  yet  oh,  how  our  hearts  clung  to 
that  little  shape,  that  was  so  fair  and  heavenly. 

Raymond  was  gone !  Mary  being  unwell  I  was  installed 
chief  nurse  to  Ala  Ray.  Often  during  the  day  she  corn- 
plained  of  being  tii'ed,  and  would  lie  for  a  long  time  in 
my  arms — still,  as  if  death  was  already  upon  her ;  then  she 
would  start  up  and  sing  a  little  snatch  of  some  song  her  father 
liked  to  hear.  Then  she  would  ask  hovr  long  it  would  be 
until  the  daisies  bloomed.  Then  settle  herself  as  if  she 
would  try  to  wait  patiently.  Oh !  country,  bleeding  at 
every  pore  through  these  reeking  days  of  sacrifice,  there 
was  nothing  more  hallowed  laid  upon  thy  altar  than  what 
that  child  gave  to  thee  thus  uncomplainingly — the  joy  of 
her  father's  presence  during  those  last  days  of  hers  upon 
the  earth.  Ah !  sweet  Ala  Ray !  There  is  no  name  for 
heroism  like  to  thine ;  but  God  has  taken  the  struggle  of 
.thy  little  heart  into  strict  account.  Thy  offering  was  to 
countrv  and  to  him.  Brisrhter  even  than  the  hero's  crown 
of  glory  shall  shine  thy  white  wreath  of  innocence  in  the 
father's  peace. 

Winter  came,  wrapping  again  its  white  arms  around  the 
habitations  of  this  earth,  tracking  gently  the  graves  of 
the  summer  flowers.  There  was  no  visible  change  in  our 
pet,  saving  a  constantly  increasing  languor,  a  gradual  fail- 
ing of  vitality,  which  was  replaced  by  a  pallor  whiter,  more 
transparent.  I  grew  so  accustomed  to  having  her  little  golden 
head  upon  my  breast,  I  missed  her  when  she  asked  to  be 


276  THE  MONTANAS. 

transferred  to  her  own  little  couch,  with  its  drapings  of  the 
blue  she  loved  so  well.  It  seemed  she  daily  grew  more 
cheerful,  more  considerate  for  those  around  her,  and  would 
often  say : 

"Aunty,  I  am  sure  you  must  be  tired  holding  me  so 
long?"  She  was  apparently  unconscious  that  her  light 
weight  was  no  more  than  a  pleasant  burden  to  me. 

Leah  Eldridge  had  lived  with  Mary  during  Raymond's 
period  of  sendee.  About  this  time  Jamie,  her  little  son, 
was  attacked  with  a  malignant  fever.  Ala  would  not  rest 
by  day  or  night  until  the  little  boy  was  brought  in  and 
placed  upon  her  owm  silken  couch.  I  assumed  the  charge 
of  watching  them  both  one  night,  that  Leah  and  Mary 
might  both  be  rested.  Jamie  slept ;  Ala  lay  quite  still  in 
my  arms  a  long  time,  then  started,  turning  her  eyes  upon 
me  with  a  delight  that  was  quite  new  and  strange  to  her  of 
late.     "  ^Tiat  is  it  darling  ?  "    I  asked. 

"  Did  you  not  see  them,  auntie ;  they  came  so  near  to 
you,  their  white  wings  almost  touched  your  cheek,  hold- 
ing out  their  hands  to  me,  and  I  wanted  to  go  with  them 
for  they  were  very  lovely,  auntie ;  but  then  I  thought  of 
you  and  dear  mamma,  and  how  hard  it  would  be  to  leave 
you ;  then  that  papa  of  mine  came  home,  auntie  darling, 
though  the  daisies  were  not  yet  bloomed.  A  tall,  dark  man, 
came  with  him ;  it  seemed  as  though  I  had  seen  him 
somewhere  before;  and  they  clasped  hands,  papa  and  he, 
and  talked  of  peace;  you  looked  so  happy,  and  I  heard 
such  sweet  music !  Oh !  auntie,  I  am  sorry  it  was  all  a 
dream ;  I  should  really  love  to  go  to  that  beautiful  place." 

My  tears  were  fast  falling  as  I  pressed  her  closer  to  my 
heart  trying  to  speak  calmly,  softly,  that  the  mother  might 
not  hear ;  but  I  could  articulate  no  word  of  all  that  must 
be  said. 


THE  MONTANAS.  277 

"  Auntie,  you  know  how  well  I  love  you  every  one,  but 
I  think  I  must  go  there  for  a  little  while ;  I  shall  come 
back  to  see  you  many  times,  and  you  will  all  be  happy 
when  I  am  gone,  for  you  will  know  that  I  am  happy  in 
that  beautiful  place.  Auntie,  there  will  he  no  pain  therer 
She  unconsciously  put  her  hand  to  her  head ;  I  felt  her 
pulse  adroitly,  and  found  she  had  fever.  I  administered  a 
cooling  draught,  which  was  the  most  that  could  be  done. 
During  the  afternoon  she  often  said  to  me : 

"  Auntie,  have  you  told  mamma  that  I  am  going  away  by- 
and-by,  where  this  pain  can  rest?  Oh!  if  it  could  only 
sleep  for  a  little  time  !  But  I  sniffer  so  much."  I  choked 
back  the  tears  at  such  times,  but  rarely  answered  her.  Oh  ! 
how  she  suffered  for  many  days!  The  eking  out  of  that 
small  remnant  of  vitality  was  indeed  fraught  with  the  ac- 
complishment of  a  great  mission.  Not  yet,  not  yet,  was 
the  little  frail  bark  borne  outward  to  the  eternal  strand. 
Not  yet  was  the  bright  door  unclosed;  not  yet  the  little 
fingers  swept  the  chords  of  a  heavenly  harp. 


CHAPTER  XX. 


"  A  truer,  nobler,  trustier  heart, 
More  loving  or  more  loyal,  never  beat 
Within  a  human  breast" 

Byeon's  Two  Foscaei. 


It  came  to  pass  in  course  of  time  that  Jamie  grew  better, 
and  during  the  days  of  his  convalescence  our  darling  was 
stretched  upon  a  bed  of  death.     Physicians,  friends,  and 


278  THE  MONTANAS. 

nurses  by  the  score  came  and  went  with  noiseless  steps,  but 
their  errands  availed  naught  for  the  little  sufferer,  who  was 
happily  unconscious  of  alL  There  was  nothing  in  the  every- 
day routine  to  break  the  stupor  of  our  great  grief.  I  went 
myself  to  the  office  and  telegraphed  for  Raymond,  when  I 
found  there  was  no  hope  of  her  lingering  long.  I  stood  at 
the  gate  a  few  moments  on  my  return.  A  stranger  trudged 
wearily  by,  taking  the  broad  road  to  Ridgely.  My  heart  beat 
quick.  That  form  was  like  unto  another's^  who  had  been 
bowed  and  stricken  by  a  battle-blast !  I  was  so  agitated  I 
found  it  necessary  to  recall  a  Southern  grave,  and  the 
sleeper  there,  in  order  to  calm  myself.  As  I  entered  the 
hall  I  could  not  avoid  hearing  the  loud,  harsh  tones  of  Mrs. 
Seaman,  who  was  in  the  reception-room  holding  solemn 
converse  with  some  one  concerning  a  very  suspicious  charac- 
ter who  seemed  to  be  entirely  at  home  with  the  Kingswells. 
"  He  had  been  there  for  upwards  of  a  week,  and  was,  in  her 
estimation,  a  deserter  from  Lee's  army."  I  passed  boldly 
into  the  room.  Mrs.  Seaman  started,  blushed  guiltily,  and 
said  deprecatingly  : 

"  We  came  to  ask  if  we  should  be  permitted  to  see  the 
little  girl ;  I-  hear  she  is  much  worse ;  what  a  pity !  the 
father  should  be  sent  for.  Of  course  you  anticipate  the 
worst  results.  In  my  experience  this  malady  has  invariably 
proven  fatal,  though  it  is  a  disease  which  takes  a  long  time 
to  kill.  Well,  I'm  sorry  for  Miss  Kingswell,  she  was  so 
fond  of  the  little  thing,  and  as  I  said  before,  it's  a  pity — if 
I  could  only  see  the  mother — she's  a  young  creature — ^I 
might  tell  her  some  things." 

"  Mrs.  Seaman,"  I  exclaimed  with  vehemence,  "  Mrs. 
Montana  is  very  ill  ?  Upon  her  mother  and  myself,  in  her 
father's  absence,  devolves  the  care  of  his  child-  I  shall 
therefore  assume  the  responsibility  of  denying  you  admis- 


THE  MONTANAS.  279 

sion  to  her  presence :  you  may  sit  liere  if  you  wisli ;  excuse 
me,  I  must  go  to  Ala." 

The  little  thing  manifested  no  more  consciousness  of  the 
blisters  on  her  little  temples  than  if  they  had  been  wisps  of 
paper.  She  was  sleeping  soundly  when  I  entered.  The 
grandmother  bade  me  go  at  once  to  the  cottage  to  Stanley, 
who  had  been  confined  to  the  house  for  several  days  with 
a  severe  cold,  and  give  her  information  to  allay  her  imme- 
diate fear  concerning  our  darling.  I  spoke  words  of  com- 
fort to  Mary,  whose  heart-cry  was,  "  Oh !  that  Raymond 
was  here;"  then  took  my  way  down  the  garden-path, 
where  the  snow  lay  cold  and  white.  I  inquired  if  she  had 
been  to  Ridgely  recently  ?  She  replied  that  she  had  not. 
A  few  commonplaces,  and  then  I  left  her  to  return  to  my 
charge.  A  few  rods  from  the  cottage  I  met  the  mysterious 
stranger  going  there  by  way  of  our  private  road.  I  started, 
sprang  forward  with  a  sudden  impulse,  then  retreated  with 
an  ejaculation,  I  do  not  now  remember  what  it  was ;  I  only 
know  I  found  myself  then  and  there  face  to  face  with  Clyde 
Ingram! — him  whom  I  mourned  far  off  in  his  Southern 
grave.  Had  the  dead  really  come  back,  or  was  he  only  the 
ghost  of  a  former  time  standing  there  white  and  still  before 
me  ?  He  offered  me  his  hand ;  I  could  not  take  it,  but 
gazed  at  him  with  wild,  streaming  eyes,  until  I  saw  the  old, 
proud  smile  curling  his  bloodless  lips,  and  heard  his  sar- 
castic tones  ringing  out  chimes  in  that  cold,  winter  day. 
Were  we  two  doomed  to  misunderstand  each  other  to  the 
bitter  end  ?     In  truth,  it  seemed  fated  that  we  should  do  so. 

"  And  so  you  will  not  give  me  your  hand,  Aljean  !  Oh  ! 
I  have  wished  so  much  to  see  you  !  though  perhaps  you  do 
right  to  remind  me  that  even  the  relations  of  friend  and 
friend,  existing  between  us  when  we  parted,  are  changed 
now,  very  sadly.     When  wounded  and  left  for  dead  upon 


280  THE  MONT  ANAS. 

the  field,  I  failed  to  remember  for  a  time  tlie  bitter  truth ; 
I  only  thought  it  would  soothe  me  to  look  upon  your  face 
once  more  :  I  forgot  that  you  regarded  me  as  a  traitor.  My 
country's  enemy  I  have  been,  and  am  still !  but  yours — 
never  !  not  even  when  you  tore  my  heart-strings  by  giving 
your  love  to  another.  No,  I  did  not  hate  you  then.  lie 
has  been  by  my  side,  my  faithful  friend  ever  since  I  saw 
you  last.  I  sympathize  with  you  both,  and  regret  your 
inevitable  separation  for  so  long.  As  for  myself,  I  felt  I 
must  see  you  again  :  I  have  cheated  death  for  that  purpose ; 
I  am  here,  and  you  scorn  me !  What  little  is  left  of  my 
possessions  I  bequeathe  to  you  with  my  last  blessing.  I  am 
no  longer  proud,  Aljean,  hut  you  are.  This  very  instant  we 
must  part,  never  to  meet  any  more.  I  shall  go  my  way 
now,  you  have  heard  my  bequest — farewell." 

"  Stay  !"  I  almost  screamed  ;  "  I  do  not  comprehend  one 
half  that  you  say,  Clyde  Ingram;  but  the  strange  fierce 
tides  of  mingled  joy  and  sorrow  surging  through  my  heart 
and  brain  threaten  to  unhinge  my  reason.  You  must  not, 
shall  not  go.  ^\Tiat  you  have  been,  I  know :  what  you  are, 
I  care  not.  I  have  things  to  tell  you  you  will  think  strange 
to  hear :  but  not  now — not  to-day  ;  little  Ala  Ray — Ray- 
mond's child — is  dying !  come  with  me  to  her :  I  cannot 
stay  away  longer,  and  I  do  not  want  to  leave  you  here." 
So  saying,  I  catched  his  hand  and  kissed  it  with  burning 
lips:  a  strange,  beautiful  light  seemed  breaking  over  his 
wan  face,  but  it  darkened  into  a  frown  when  he  remem- 
bered aU  things,  for  he  said : 

"  No,  no,  /  cannot  go  there  I  that  is  why  we  have  not  met 
before  to-day.  I  shall  see  Stanley — I  was  going  there 
when  I  saw  you."  I  gave  him  my  hand  ;  his  face  had  re- 
sumed its  wonted  expression  of  bitter  patience  :  he  held  my 
fingers  tightly  in  his  clasp  with  a  look  that  said,  I  still 


THE  MONTANAS.  281 

must  wait;  then  went  his  way  to  the  cottage.  Once  more 
in  my  own  room,  I  knelt  and  thanked  God  fervently  that 
the  great  seal  of  silence  which  sat  upon  those  years;  a  hope- 
less hope,  was  broken  at  last :  even  though  death  should  set 
another  more  enduring  on  his  lips,  it  would  not  be  cruel  as 
the  first. 

Three  laggard  days,  slowly  dragging  through  their 
weight  of  suspense  and  anguish,  had  passed,  yet  we  waited 
still  the  opening  of  the  golden  doors  and  the  passing  of 
Ala's  soul  beyond.  On  the  noon-time  of  the  fourth  she 
awoke  from  her  death-like  stupor.  I  wrote  a  few  words 
upon  a  slip  of  paper  addressed  to  Clyde,  and  sent  Jamie 
with  it  to  Ridgely. 

When  the  beautiful  eyes  of  the  child  unclosed  from  their 
trance-like  slumber,  she  saw  her  father,  who  knelt  beside 
her  in  his  great  anguish.  With  one  last  effort  she  twined 
her  thin  arms  about  his  neck,  kissing  and  talking  softly  in 
her  sweet  caressing  tones,  as  though  he  had  never  been 
away.  Mary  was  almost  wild  with  joy  when  she  heard  the 
loved  voice  still  so  long.  Oh  !  we  could  none  of  us  realize 
that  our  darling  was  going,  even  when  her  breath  grew 
short  and  quick  in  sudden  gasps.  As  for  the  father,  his 
soul  seemed  wrenched  from  him ;  his  hope,  joy,  life  almost, 
had  been  hung  on  that  little  frail  thing.  He  exclaimed 
wildly — 

"  Oh  !  my  child,  my  Ala,  do  not,  do  not  leave  me." 

A  dark  figure  crept  into  the  room  unobserved,  and  knelt 
reverently  upon  the  opposite  side  of  the  little  couch. 

"  See  !  see,  papa,  that  dark  man — I  saw  him  in  my 
dream."  Raymond  lifted  his  eyes  when  he  heard  that 
angel  voice.  A  frown  heavy,  terrible,  like  a  gathering  tem- 
pest, followed  his  swift  recognition  of  Clyde. 

*'  Take  his  hand,  dear  papa ;  he  loves  you — I  am  sure  he 


282  THE  MONTANAS. 

does ;  a  briglit,  beautiful  angel  told  it  to  me."  Slowly  the 
gloom  cleared  away  from  that  father's  brow :  then  there 
came  uppn  his  face  a  bright,  brief  gleam  of  the  old  brother- 
hood, mingled  with  unspeakable  surprise.  By  one  joint, 
God-o-iven  impulse,  the  brother  hands  met  and  clasped  over 
the  little  form,  and  with  her  last  sight  she  saw  that  it  was 
so  Then  a  glorious  brightness  came  upon  her  little  face, 
and  the  sinking  sun  poured  its  red  floods  into  the  chamber. 
Wide  open  flew  the  pearly  doors  of  the  New  Jerusalem : 
all  the  heavenly  harps  were  attuned !  angels  chanted  the 
triumphal  chorus  when  the  little  spiiit  passed  therein. 

^Miat  conqueror,  even  though  his  blood-stained  wreath 
of  victory  was  dearly  bought,  had  done  what  this  sinless 
child,  with  only  her  little,  loxiwg  heart  to  prompt  her,  and 
God  to  point  her  mission  out,  had  accomplished  !  She  had 
abrido-ed  floods  of  sectional  hatred,  and  with  her  small, 
weak  hands,  had  drawn  together  two  brother  hearts,  wide 
asunder  as  the  stars  !  Her  reward  was  well  begun.  But 
oh !  for  us,  with  our  darling  gone,  woe,  misery  unuttera- 
ble !  we  felt  it  in  all  its  length  and  depth  and  breadth  as 
silently  we  knelt  there,  until  the  last  tinge  of  color  faded 
from  the  western  heaven :  then  in  the  grey  of  descending 
twilight  we  saw  the  wan  w^hiteness  of  death  upon  the  little 
face  smiling  to  us  sweetly  through  its  pallor.  The  portals 
closed  after  her,  and  we  with  our  great  sorrow  were  left  all 
alone  in  the  darkness  of  the  night.  • 

We  will  not  linger  upon  the  days  that  followed,  the 
nights  of  watching,  and  the  funeral.  Once,  strong  man  as 
he  was,  the  father's  tears  fell  like  rain,  when,  as  his  idol  was 
being  borne  slowly  down  the  garden-way  to  the  church- 
yard, he  saw  a  few  modest  daisies  struggling  to  blossom  in 
the  snow  :  she  loved  daisies,  and  they  seemed  waiting  to 
salute  her  as  she  passed.     God's  fingers  had  gathered  one 


THE  MONTANAS.  283 

daisy  ere  the  grass  grew  green  and  the  myrtle  upon  the 
gilead  sides  where  the  birds  sang  blithe  in  spring-time. 

"  See,  Jennie,  it  has  all  come  to  pass  as  she  said ;  I  am 
here :  but  she — oh !  would  that  I  had  not  been  forced  to 
tear  myself  away  from  her  when  she  was  so  soon  to  leave 
me  alone!"  ^ 

Gathered  by  that  little  grave-side,  Mr.  Kingswell's  voice 
uprose  in  prayer ;  a  prayer  so  fraught  with  faith,  so  blent 
and  tremulous  with  hope — so  frail  and  yet  so  strong,  it 
seemed  to  lay  hold  on  the  eternal  throne.  Then,  like  drop- 
ping water  or  falling  leaves  in  autumn,  came  the  lulling 
spell-like  words  that  told  of  resignation  which  was  inevita- 
ble. We  took  up  our  burdens  of  life  again  and  went  back 
to  the  lonely  house,  where,  in  many  yesterdays,  she  had 
been  with  us  :  but  now  it  would  be  so  no  more.  It  was 
long  before  our  darling's  footprints  faded  from  the  starry 
homeway  o'er  which  she  passed  to  God. 

For  a  week  after  Ala's  death,  Raymond  was  confined  at 
home  by  the  illness  of  his  mfe,  during  which  time  Clyde 
Inoram  had  never  once  left  Ridgely.  Stanley  had  resumed 
her  school  duties  ;  and  I  vibrated,  as  usual,  between  brother 
and  sister.  I  was  with  Stanley  when  Mrs.  Seaman  called 
to  express  her  \drtuous  indignation  that  Mr.  Kingswell 
should  entertain  a  renegade  nephew,  who  had  borne  arms 
against  his  country ;  which  sentiment,  she  avowed,  was 
shared  by  the  community  at  large ;  the  expression  of  which 
had  been  prevented,  or  rather  delayed,  on  account  of  the 
calamity  which  had  befallen  the  household.  I  drew  my 
breath  hard,  with  a  bitter  sense  of  outrage,  while  I  listened 
to  the  animadversions  of  this  fractious  woman,  upon  the 
character  and  acts  of  those,  "the  latchet  of  whose  shoes 
she  was  not  worthy  to  unloose."  I  thought  of  Ala,  became 
calm  and  subdued.     There  are  many  like  Mrs.  Seaman  in 


284  THE  MOXTANAS. 

the  world ;  one  must  learn,  sooner  or  later,  to  deal  with 
them  leniently  ;  so  I  did ;  just  as  though,  with  profane  feet, 
she  walked  not  into  the  sanctuary  of  our  sorrow. 

Miss  Phoebe  came  from  Ridgely,  bearing  a  note  address- 
ed in  the  clear  chirography  of  Clyde's  uncle.  She  had 
gone  daih^,  since  his  visit  to  the  cotrage,  to  see  the  boy 
who  was  the  apple  of  her  old  eyes.  Without  asking  to  be 
excused,  I  hastily  perused  the  lines  which  summoned  us 
three  to  his  side.  My  heart  sank  down  with  a  il^w  appre- 
hension. I  bade  Miss  Phoebe  hasten  dinner,  that  we  might 
go  immediately.  Mrs.  Seaman  took  her  place  at  the  table, 
so  anxious  to  learn  something  more  concerning  the  subject 
which  lay  nearest  her  heart. 

"  I  presume  you  are  going  to  see  that  young  man  ? " 

"Yes,  madam,  I  certainly  shall  not  fail  to  meet  my 
adopted  brother,  Col.  Ingram,  whom  we  all  esteem ;  despite 
his  position,  an  honorable  gentleman  !  " 

The  old  lady  was  completely  nonplussed ;  something  in 
my  manner  suddenly  checked  her  propensity  to  be  inquisi- 
tive concerning  a  matter  in  which  our  family  alone  should 
have  become  involved. 

To  do  the  old  lady  justice,  I  must  say  she  was  not  bad- 
hearted  in  the  main ;  only  meddlesome,  sometimes.  Of 
late,  she  had  been  particularly  gracious  to  Stanley ;  had 
sought  her  society  in  many  instances.  I  think  the  manner 
in  which  that  young  girl  had  gone  on  in  her  quiet  round 
of  patient  duty-doing,  commanded  her  respect,  as  it  had 
■won  homage  from  those  who  had  formerly  denounced 
her  so  fiercely.  Mrs.  Seaman  was  the  mouth-piece  of  the 
Wayburn  social  circle ;  when  its  heart  Avarmed  towards 
Stanley,  she  was  the  first  to  admit  they  had  wronged  her, 
and  to  ask  of  the  young  girl  toleration  and  forgiveness. 
Stanley  was  grateful  for  this  change,  since  it  increased  her 


THE  MONTANAS.  285 

capacity  for  usefulness  in  tlie  community;  grateful,  too, 
tbat  her  friends  were  no  longer  submitted  to  humi- 
liation for  her  sake.  Now  she  enjoyed  a  favoritism 
strono-er  in  proportion  than  had  been  the  original 
persecution. 

When  Stanley  came  home  at  noon-time,  we  three  took 
silently  our  way  to  Ridgely.  I  had  not  been  there  since 
winter  had  settled  cold  and  bleak  around  the  great  square 
house. .  Now  there  were  no  wreathings  about  window  or 
colonnade ;  only  a  few  daisies,  struggling  with  the  snow, 
like  the  hope  that  was  in  my  heart. 

The  excitement  of  meeting  us  all  once  more,  of  coming 
back  to  the  haunts  of  his  childhood,  had  borne  Clyde  up 
wonderfully  for  a  fortnight ;  now  this  prop  had  failed  him. 
He  lay,  white  and  still,  with  lines  of  suflFering  about  his 
mouth,  though  his  eyes  were  clear  and  undimmed.  The 
marked  change  struck  me  dumb,  when  we  were  ushered 
into  his  presence.  He  feebly  held  out  his  hand ;  I  pressed 
it  to  my  lips ;  his  head  fell  forward  on  his  breast  in  the 
effort  to  rise ;  it  was  then  I  saw,  what  I  had  not  before 
Iniown — the  ghastly  wound,  his  bright  hair  stained  with 
gore.  My  soul  grew  sick  within  me ;  then  I  realized  how 
much  I  had  scarce  consciously  counted  upon  his  recovery. 
I  signed  Clyde's  uncle  to  come  with  me  to  the  parlor,  and 
tell  me  all  that  he  feared;  there  is  no  agony  like  sus- 
pense. 

"  It  is  a  fearful  wound — by  mere  chance  has  he  escaped 
death  until  now.  The  skull  is  broken ;  we  fear  concussion 
constantly ;  then  the  pressure  is  at  times  so  great  as  to 
produce  delirium.  Poor  boy,  he  is  well  aware  of  his  danger. 
Be  calm ;  any  outburst  may  bring  on  the  result  we  dread 
so  much." 

I  could  not  speak,  but  pressed  his  hand,  and  returned  to 


286  THE  MONTAXAS. 

Clyde.  By  tacit  consent  they  all  witlidrew,  leaving  us  alone 
together.  I  held  my  breath,  that  I  might  not  lose  one 
syllable  of  what  he  uttered : 

"  Ah !  Jennie,  all  my  hopes  and  schemes  in  this  world 
have  come  to  naught;  life  is  a  failure.  I  promised  my 
sainted  mother  I  should  achieve  something  in  the  conflict 
with  it ;  but  I  could  not.  Now  I  shall  take  my  place  with 
the  rank  and  file  of  an  army  that  is  gathering  fast,  silently  ; 
we  shall  never  more  be  placed  on  duty  in  mortJil  conflict. 
For  me  the  service  will  soon  be  over ;  the  solitary  ship  has 
long  drifted  o'er  the  blood-red  tides,  gleaming  through  this 
dark  night  of  strife,  without  rudder  or  compass  to  steer  it 
towards  the  port  beyond.  You  could  not  love  me,  Jennie ; 
yet  you  alone  will  be  near  me  when  I  cast  my  anchor  over 
the  boundary  line.  Behold !  light  is  breaking  yonder  on 
the  further  strand,  with  its  calm  white  swelling  slopes  of 
peace.  I  once  thought  you  loved  Hayne ;  then  again.  Lane 
Austin ;  now  I  think  neither  one  nor  the  other,  yet  fear  to 
ask  you  the  question  I  should  have  asked  you  long  ago. 
Read  to  me  from  the  book  my  mother  loved ;  ah,  would 
that  I  had  loved  it  too  ! " 

I  knew  not  where  I  read,  for  through  the  mist  of  falling 
tears  I  could  not  readily  see  my  way  ;  but  he  seized  upon 
one  sentence  :  "  What  is  bound  upon  earth,  shall  be  bound 
in  heaven." 

"  Jennie,  I  asked  you  a  question  once ;  I  told  you  the 
answer  was  for  all  time.  That,  now,  is  a  myth !  fate  and 
death  are  narrowing  down  the  brief  space  that  is  left  to  us. 
I  have  a  few  more  days  of  life,  then  a  higher  hand  shall 
open  wide  the  doors  of  my  souFs  prison.  Now  I  repeat 
that  question !  not  for  this  little  span  of  days,  but  for  all 
eternity  must  the  answer  be.  Have  you  ever  loved?" 
Truly  souls  are  laid  bare  by  death,  the  lashing  scourge  of 


THE  MONTANAS.  287 

mortality.     My  voice  was  clear  as  the  sounding  roll  of  some 
far  victory,  when  I  said  : 

"  Clyde,  I  have  loved  some  one  for  long  years,  patiently, 
hopelessly,  silently.  Ever  since  you  came  to  me  in  the 
light  of  a  morning  long  ago  by  the  golden  river  side,  in 
our  youth — I  have  loved  you." 

For  a  long  time  his  great  joy  was  still,  then  it  found  voice : 
"  Ah  !  I  see  it  all  now !  How  much  of  suffering  had 
been  spared  me  if  this  glorious  truth  had  been  revealed  ere 
I  came  to  stand  upon  the  failing  sands  of  another  shore — 
another  river  gliding  near — and  I,  a  battle-scarred  soldier, 
will  soon  pitch  my  tent  upon  the  further  side.  Yet  I  sol- 
emnly swear  of  the  world  of  women  I  have  loved  you — only 
you — and  have  sought  or  cared  for  none  other.  How  I 
have  waited  and  longed-for  this  day  of  final  triumph  !  Now 
I  ask  you  to  let  the  answering  love  which  you  this  hour 
avow,  stand  revealed  in  sight  of  God  and  man ;  be  mine ! 
give  me  leave  to  hope  that  I  may  claim  you  in  the  life  to 
come  :  in  the  great  peace  in  which  friend  and  enemy  shall 
stand  side  by  side  again."  He  held  out  both  his  hands  to 
me  !  Over  the  great  abyss  which  before  had  seemed  to  sepa- 
rate us,  I  saw  a  bridge  of  flowers.  To  our  lives  of  patient 
waiting  death  had  brought  a  rich  reward,  the  breaking  up 
of  those  great  immutable  silences  whose  chains  had  bound 
us  in  their  thraldom.  I  promised  to  be  all  that  he  wished ; 
by  that  bed  of  dissolution  I  knelt  in  union  with  him.  The 
tocsin  sounding  his  release  from  an  earthly  prison,  and  the 
roll-call  of  heaven,  were  our  marriage  bells  !  the  peal  and  the 
poean  of  our  wedded  lives  on  earth — in  death.  Grand  and 
glorious  over  the  everlasting  hills  of  Zion  shone  the  promise 
that  he  would  be  mine  for  all  eternity,  who  had  been  mine 
for  one  short  hour  here.  Xo  fate  should  henceforth  blot 
out  the  memory  of  this  one  blissful  truth. 


288  THE  MOXTANAS. 

As  T  knelt  the  full  tides  of  the  winter's  sun,  reddening  as 
he  sank,  came  in  at  the  casement  and  wrapped  us  in  its 
beams.  My  eyes  wandered  from  terrace  and  spire  to  the 
far  New  Hampshire  hills,  with  a  coronet  of  sunbeams  about 
each  crest,  and  the  bright  river  which  ran  at  their  feet. 
The  current  ran  golden  'neath  the  floods  of  light,  streaming, 
it  seemed,  through  a  wide,  open  door  in  the  heavens.  Now, 
as  I  look  back  into  the  fading  long  ago,  receiving  the  full 
glory  of  that  hour,  I  can  count  still  the  pulses  of  eternity 
that  throbbed  in  it. 

To  us,  tried  and  purged  as  we  had  been,  death  would  be 
no  barrier,  only  a  little  longer  waiting  the  fruition  of  hopes 
upspringing  in  life's  sunset  hour.  By  eternity's  brink  we 
stood,  Clyde  holding  my  hand  very  tightly,  while  the  sun 
sank  lower.  The  sands  were  falling,  and  the  golden  river 
gliding  on,  on,  bearing  to  a  swift,  sure  end,  his  frail  rem- 
nant of  vitality. 

Thus  they  found  us  when  Raymond,  who  had  been  sum- 
moned at  Clyde's  request,  came  up  a  short  time  afterwards. 
There  by  his  side  I  kept  my  place  while  on  earth  he  had 
need  of  me ;  we  propped  him  up  with  pillows  while  he 
spoke  to  Ra}Tnond  of  what  lay  heaviest  on  his  heart — 
bravely,  fearlessly. 


THE  MONTANAS.  289 


CHAPTER  XXI. 

"  Death  is  the  crown  of  life : 
Were  this  denied,  poor  man  would  live  in  vain. 
Death  wounds  to  cure :  we  fall,  we  rise,  we  reign ; 
Spring  from  our  fetters — fastened  to  the  skies, 
"Where  blooming  Eden  withers  from  our  sight, 
This  king  of  terrors  is  the  prince  of  peace." 

Youxg's  Night  Thottghts.  ~ 

"  Raymond,  my  brother,  after  all  that  has  passed,  we  cannot 
meet  as  enemies  in  these  last  days  of  mine  upon  the  earth. 
We  learned  our  first  lessons  in  life  together,  sheltered  'neath 
the  same  roof-tree.  We  have  been  friends  from  boyhood, 
yet  are  we  bound  by  a  still  brighter  link  than  this — it  was 
woven  by  an  angel's  fingers — your  child's.  Notwithstand- 
ing all  this,  in  obedience  to  the  dictates  of  the  powers  you 
serve,  by  the  authority  vested  in  you,  /  am  your  prisoner  I 
I  have  borne  arms  against  the  government  whose  loyal  sub- 
ject you  are,  whose  protection  I  dare  not  claim  !  Do  with 
me  as  you  will.  For  the  sake  of  all  that  has  been  and  is, 
shrink  not  from  your  duty." 

Raymond  was  fearfully  pale,  now  that  the  issue,  so  long 
dreaded,  was  really  come.  He  said  not  a  word ;  only  trem- 
bled visibly,  as  though  the  struggle  between  duty  and  the 
old  love  raged  strong  within  him.  It  was  evident  these 
necessities  had  asserted  themselves  before,  but  his  angel 
had  joined  their  hands  together.  Must  the  pleading  love 
of  his  dead  child  be  set  aside,  and  no  shelter  extended  to 
his  brother  in  his  hopeless  helplessness  ? 

Clyde  saw  his  struggle,  and  essayed  to  speak,  with  his 
thin  hand  resting  on  my  bowed  head. 

"  You  have  never  asked  me,  brother,  why  I  have  subjected 
you  to  this  fearful  test.     I  had  something  I  felt  I  must  say 

13 


290  THE  MONTANA S. 

to  this  poor  child.  I  was  left  for  dead  within  the  enemy's 
lines;  I  had  nowhere  else  to  go  ;  I  did  not  pause  to  inquire 
whether  or  not  I  would  be  an  unwelcome  guest  in  the  house 
of  my  old  friend ;  or  that  you,  who  had  been  reared  in  the 
home  of  my  father,  should  feel  it  to  be  your  sacred  duty 
to  send  me  forth  an  outcast,  or  retain  me  as  your  prisoner. 
When  I  came  to  Ridgely  I  did  not  expect  to  die  here ;  I 
thought  it  would  all  be  over;  I  should  have  said  my  say, 
and  gone  my  way  long  since — this  feverish  wound  has 
proved  too  strong  for  me.  In  the  first  instance,  I  meant 
only  to  remain  here  a  few  hours ;  but  for  the  illness  of  the 
child,  I  should  have  completed  my  en-and  in  your  absence. 
Now,  since  I  have  told  you  why  I  am  here,  I  will  tell  you 
how  it  came  to  pass. 

"  Oh !  it  was  a  fearful  contest,  that  preceding  my  fall ; 
the  men  fought  grandly  on  both  sides.  I  have  led  my 
braves  through  many  a  gauntlet  of  Federal  shot  and  shell, 
but  never  were  their  breasts  bared  to  volleys  like  those.  A 
ball  struck  my  horse ;  I  fell  with  him ;  the  wound  on  my 
head  is  a  sabre  cut,  which  left  me  entirely  insensible.  I 
wore  no  uniform,  consequently  I  was  left  with  the  heaps  of 
dead  and  dying  on  the  slaughter-ground.  The  last  thing  I 
remember  was  my  faithful  horse  laying  his  head  upon  the 
shoulder  of  the  orderly  who  always  groomed  him  when  in 
camp,  who  lay  dead  by  my  side.  Twenty  days  lat^r.  Col. 
Austin  found  them  thus,  man  and  beast ;  hence  the  sup- 
position of  my  death.  How  long  I  lay  unconscious  I  know 
not ;  when  I  awoke,  as  from  a  trance,  there  was  a  woman, 
stately  and  beautiful,  bending  over  me ;  she  assisted  me  to 
her  carriage,  then  conveyed  me  to  a  house  near  at  hand. 
It  was  Retta  Austin,  the  Colonel's  sister.  During  the  reign 
of  Gen.  Butler,  the  family  had  removed  to  their  plantation 
in    Georgia,     She   informed  me  that   Gen.  Jolmston   had 


THE   MO  XT  AX  AS.  291 

breakfasted  there  the  morning  upon  which  I  left  camp,  pro- 
claiming in  angi^  tones  the  sentence  which  awaited  me  for 
having  disobeyed  orders,  and  pursued  the  foe  to  what  he 
foresaw  would  be  certain  destruction.  Retta  was  well 
aware  a  court-martial  awaited  me  should  I  return  to  my 
allegiance,  even  were  such  a  thing  possible,  with  the  whole 
of  Sherman's  army  between  them  and  me.  She  therefore 
set  about  preparing  a  complete  disguise,  which  I  adopted ; 
then  insisted  upon  my  appropriating  enough  of  her  gold 
to  insure  me  an  unsuspicious  passage  North.  Of  course  I 
am  very  much  obliged  to  her  for  her  kindness,  though  I 
beheve  the  girl  is  half  demon.  She  vaunted  her  hatred  for 
the  Yankees  in  a  manner  that  quite  surj^rised  me.  She 
even  boasted  of  having  broken  the  eno^ao-ement  between 
Stanley  and  Hayne.  Her  treachery  has  been  amply  repaid 
by  the  restless  misery  which  consumes  her  now. 

"  T  paused  nowhere  by  the  way,  until  I  found  myself  at 
Montreal.  There  I  lay  prostrate  for  months,  gradually 
growing  more  wasted.  I  asked  my  physician  to  tell  me 
frankly  what  I  might  depend  upon.  He  informed  me  I 
had  not  weeks  to  live.  I  motioned  him  to  leave  me,  rose 
at  once  to  prepare  for  my  journey  hither.  You  know  the 
rest. 

"  Upon  leaving  Claremont  you  remember  my  regiment 
Avas  encamped  at  Brightland.  I  received  what  I  considered 
an  excellent  cash  offer  for  my  city  property.  I  sold  it  to 
prevent  an  ultimate  transfer  to  strangers.  Claremont  with 
its  flowers  and  fountains,  blue  sky  and  distant  stretch  of. 
sea,  was  purchased  by  an  old  friend  of  our  family.  He  was 
a  distinguished  rebel ;  his  property  was  confiscated  and  has 
since  been  converted  into  a  baiTacks  for  the  soldiery.  If  I 
had  not  sold  it  just  when  I  did  the  loss  would  have  been 
ours.     Brightland  I  retained.     Here  is  a  deed,  Raymond, 


292  THE  MONTAXAS. 

executed  two  years  ago.  Brightland  is  yours !  You  can 
claim  it  should  we  ever  have  peace  agaA  Tlic  gold  for 
which  I  sold  Clareinont  and  its  belongings — horses,  furni- 
ture, consei*vatory,  all  things  partaining  thereto,  amount- 
ing to  fifty  thousand  dollars — you  will  find  at  Bright- 
land.  The  old  female  servants,  including  Aunt  Dinah  and 
Hawsy,  are  there  still !  They  are  true,  and  will  show  you 
where  the  money  .is  buried.  Though  for  fear  they  may 
have  been  removed,  I  will  give  you  a  plot  of  the  ground 
containing  the  deposit.  Sand-banks  are  the  only  banks 
which  in  seasons  of  war  do  not  discount  their  paper, 
more  especially  when  the  deposits  are  all  in  specie  currency. 
Now  I  have  said  all  I  wish  to  say,  nothing  remains  but  the 
exercise  of  the  power  vested  in  you ;  you  are  my  execu- 
tor. See  to  it  that  th'e  girls  are  put  in  possession  of  this 
money,  and  that  it  is  properly  invested  for  their  future 
needs.  I  am  your  prisoner !  If  you  fail  to  claim  me  as  such 
I  must  go  elsewhere  to  die ;  I  cannot  think  of  subjecting 
you  to  the  censure — punishment  perhaps — which  an  omis- 
sion of  this  nature  must  necessarily  bring  upon  you." 

Raymond  was  agonized  beyond  expression  ;  Clyde's  con- 
sideration for  him  was  so  delicate,  his  generosity  so  great, 
even  as  his  enemy  his  brotherly  affection  so  strong!  It 
would  be  worse  than  traitorous  to  set  aside  all  these  con- 
siderations and  put  the  law  in  force.  How  could  he  do 
what  it  seemed  needful  to  do?  Why  was  this  horrible 
alternative  between  duty  and  the  old  brotherhood  pre- 
sented ?  When  I  looked  upon  Clyde's  pale  face  I  could 
only  exclaim : 

"  Oh !  Raymond,  you  wiU  not,  you  cannot  do  this  thing. 
You  say  that  Clyde  is  unchanged ;  when  leagues  divided 
you,  you  felt  him  to  be  your  enemy.  Now  that  you  have 
ceased  for  the  time  being  to  view  things  from  a  national 


THE  MONTAKAS.  293 

stand-point — ^have  allowed  individual  issues  to  assert  them- 
selves— you  know  that  he  has  never  been  so  in  reality ;  that 
what  you  and  he  feel  as  representatives  of  belligerent  sec- 
tions, affects  very  little  those  natural  ties  which  are  stronger 
than  life  itself.  That  no  conjuncture  of  circumstances 
could  ever  make  you  less  to  each  other  than  you  now  are. 
Then  wherefore  exists  a  necessity  for  this  thing  ? " 

Oh !  if,  instead  of  the  calculating  heads  which  plan  and 
prosecute  this  war,  the  bleeding  hearts  of  the  revolution 
were  permitted  to  assert  themselves,  and  obey  the  sweet 
promptings  of  affection,  in  the  opinion  of  those  who  suffer 
peace  would  not  be  long  in  coming.  Lips,  now  hopelessly 
mute,  might  give  utterance  to  their  wild  prayers ;  and  the 
hero  hands  that  supplicate  so  dumbly  while  striking  ine\4- 
tably  those  round  whom  their  heart-strings  fondly  twine, 
might  give  heed  to  the  clamoriugs  of  voices  louder  than 
the  clarion  notes  of  triumph.  I  speak  of  the  many  who 
suffer  for  the  crimes  of  those  who  deserve  to  suffer.  Ray- 
mond left  the  room,  but  returned  presently  with  the  war- 
worn banner  he  had  held  at  Fredericksburg. 

"  Clyde,  I  would  give  all  I  possess  to-day  to  have  you 
share  our  hospitaUty  under  the  folds  of  this  old  flag,  as  a 
friend  to  the  country,  whose  symbol  it  is.  Like  yourself, 
my  brother,  its  days  of  service  are  over,  but  we  retain  and 
love  it  still.  You  have  poured  your  volleys  into  it  while 
we  held  fast  the  standard  in  many  a  fierce  charge  ;  but  of 
this  we  will  not  think  to-day.  Give  homage  to  the  old 
banner  during  the  remnant  of  your  life,  brother;  be  the 
prodigal  of  our  household!  Receive  our  blessing  and 
God's  joint  birth-right  to  a  higher  inheritance  than  you, 
in  your  noble  generosity,  have  conferred  upon  us." 

Clyde  answered  him,,  speaking  very  sOrrowfnlly  : 

"You  will,  perhaps,  discredit  my  words,  though  I  tell 


294  THE  MOKTANAS. 

you  solemnly,  brother,  I  have  no  feeling  of  hatred  for  our 
common  country ;  and  I  love  that  old  flag  for  the  many 
times  that  I  have  seen  it  proudly  waving  over  the  whole 
land,  and  from  the  mast-head  of  ships  in  which  we  crossed 
seas  together,  though  I  cannot  in  honor  now  swear 
fidelity  to  that  which  I  have  desecrated  by  raising  my  hand 
to  strike  it  in  the  dust.  I  was  in  the  Southern  army  be- 
cause circumstances  rendered  it  imperative  that  I  should  be 
there.  My  lot  was  cast  with  them.  I  have  fulfilled  my 
destiny.  I  do  not  feel  myself  to  be  a  coward !  And  not 
to  save  my  own  life,  or  to  spare  pain  to  those  I  love,  would 
I  skulk  behind  an  assumption  of  loyalty  which  my  acts 
have  already  disproved." 

Raymond  said  no  more  on  the  subject;  though  they 
talked  almost  gaily  of  the  time  that  was  long  past  and  the 
days  that  were  ended. 

Clyde  waited ;  Raymond  struggled  with  his  stem  duty 
and  his  sorrow.  One  Sabbath  morning,  warm  and  balmy 
in  March,  we  sat  with  open  casements  listening  to  the 
Wayburn  bells.  The  sun  shone  brightly  without,  and  in 
our  two  hearts  was  joy  unspeakable.  Oh !  it  was  so  bliss- 
ful to  be  belov^ed.     Clyde  drew  me  to  him,  saying : 

"  God  is  very  good  to  us,  Jennie."  A  closer  nestling  in 
his  fragile  clasp  was  my  only  answer ;  there  was  a  glamour 
in  the  air  about  me ;  I  thought  I  was  dreaming,  when  I 
heard  voices  inquiring  for  Mr.  Kingswell  in  tones  that  were 
loud  and  harsh.  They  were  shown  into  the  library  adjoin- 
ing; the  door  was  slightly  ajar,  we  could  hear  plainly  all 
they  said. 

"  You  have  not  been  to  church  for  manv  weeks  :  whv  is 
this  ? "  inquired  the  deacon,  Mr.  Seaman,  who  had  a  cold 
in  his  head  and  talked  through  his  nose  most  woefully,  Mr. 
Kingswell  replied  in  tones  that  were  courteous  yet  firm :    . 


THE  MONTANAS.  295 

"  During  the  illness  of  my  little  grandchild,  my  Sabbath 
services  were  given  almost  exclusively  to  her ;  later,  I  have 
had  with  me  a  relative  who  is  so  ill  as  to  require  my  con- 
stant care.  I  think,  Mr.  Seaman,  our  first  duty  to  God  lies 
in  these  ministrations  to  our  suffering  fellow-men." 

"  It  is  evident  you  feel  so,  sir ;  perhaps  you  are  right ; 
as  for  myself,  I  cannot  exactly  appreciate  humanity  exer- 
cised at  the  expense  of  Christian  principle." 

"  Excuse  me,  sir,  I  do  not  understand  you ;  be  kind 
enough  to  speak  plainly.  In  the  exercise  of  these  holy  du- 
ties I  do  not  feel  that  I  have  made  any  sacrifices  of  princi- 
ple, or  failed  in  my  duty  to  God." 

"  Let  him  alone  :  he  is  joined  unto  his  idols  !  "  exclaimed 
Elder  Bridgewater,  in  guttural  tones  resembling  distant 
thunder.  "  Come  away,  he  will  not  hear  us  ;  he  is  wed- 
ded to  his  sin."  I  grew  blind  and  sick  at  heart ;  remem- 
bering the  conversation  of  Mrs.  Seaman  on  one  or  two 
occasions,  I  knew  to  what  the  self-righteous  Pharisee  re- 
ferred. 

"  I  do  not  understand  you,  gentlemen ;  of  what  am  I  ac- 
cused?" 

"A  few  minutes  since  you  did  not  deny  ha\dng  that 
man,  that  spy,  that  double  traitor,  Colonel  Ingram,  here 
under  your  own  roof;  and  gave  your  care  of  him  as  an 
excuse  for  your  omissions  in  the  Church  of  God.  Now 
you  ask  hypocritically,  of  what  am  I  accused  ? " 

"  I  certainly  never  meant  to  deny  the  fact  that  my 
nephew  is  here  under  my  roof,  and  will  remain  here  while 
he  lives.  Be  he  what  he  may,  or  rather  what  he  might 
have  been,  Colonel  Ingram  is,  I  fear,  fatally  wounded,  and 
beyond  the  power  of  harming  any  one."  Mr.  Kingswell's 
fearless  avowal  of  these  facts  somewhat  surprised  them,  and 
disarmed,  in  a  measure,  their  malig-nity ;  at  all  events  they 


296  THE  MONTAN-AS. 

were  slow  to  speak  again.     At  length,  the  pompous  old 
elder,  whose  mam  characteristics  were  sanctitv,  gold  spec 
tacles,  ebony  cane,  voice  grim  and  guttural,  with  much  tug- 
ging at  his  neck-tie,  delivered  himself  as  follows: 

"  Notwithstanding  all  you  say,  Mr.  Kingswell,  painful  as 
it  may  be,  we  have  our  duty  to  perform.  The  church  had  a 
called  meeting  yesterday  evening,  and  they  appointed  a  com- 
mittee of  two  to  wait  upon  you  at  your  residence  and  in- 
form you  of  the  proceedings  of  said  meeting.  What  I  have 
to  say  is  this.  Unless  you  expel  from  your  domicil  that 
traitor,  from  your  bosom  that  serpent,  you  Avill  be  accused 
before  the  Church  of  God,  and  your  fault  dealt  with  in  no 
very  lenient  manner.  Now,  by  the  holy  Church  whose  in- 
terests you  have  served,  of  which  you  have  long  been  a 
consistent  member,  ponder  well  what  I  have  said — let  it 

weigh " 

"  Just  this  far,  gentlemen,  no  further.  I  have,  as  you 
say,  lived  long  in  the  Church  ;  I  should  regret  that  anything 
should  come  to  mar  the  harmony  of  my  life  there  ;  yet  I 
have  ever  been  influenced  by  a  higher  authority  than  the 
law  and  creed  of  said  Church.  I  have  come  this  day  to  feel 
as  I  felt  once  before,  that  an  edifice  claimirior  to  be  the 
sanctuary  of  God  may  possess  external  evidence,  but 
nothing  of  the  spirit  of  the  Great  Master,  who  cast,  as  you 
did,  no  stone  at  the  erring,  whom  you  would  not  have 
bidden  as  He  did,  to  'go  and  sin  no  more.'  You  would 
drive  such  not  only  from  the  world's  clemency,  but  from 
God's.  Is  your  spirit  consistent  with  that  of  true  Chris- 
tianity, manifested  by  the  old  patriarch,  who  killed  the 
fatted  calf  when  his  prodigal  returned  ?  Is  there  any  room 
in  your  heart,  filled  full  of  altars  reared  to  the  God  of  the 
upright,  for  the  weary  wanderer  who  perchance  would  lay 
aside  his  sin  and  come  back  to  the  forsaken  way,  were  your 


THE  MONTANAS.  297 

strong  hands  but  outstretched  to  receive  him  ?  any  room 
for  the  exercise  of  that  justice,  which  *  as  ye  mete  to  others 
shall  be  meted  unto  you  again  ? '  any  charity  for  the  unre- 
pentant transgressor  for  whom  a  God  died  ?  If  within  His 
tabernacles  on  the  earth  I  stand  condemned  for  what  I 
have  done  and  am  doing,  then  deal  with  me  as  you  like : 
my  conscience  sustains  me ;  to  a  higher  tribunal  will  I  ap- 
peal. God  is  not  only  just,  and  kind,  and  loving ;  he  has 
not  closed  the  doors  of  his  great  heart  upon  those  for  whom 
the  way  and  the  warfare  proved  too  much.  I  have  done. 
May  the  Father  in  his  mercy  strengthen  and  sustain  me  ! " 

Ah !  and  he  will,  dear  noble  heart.  Here  was  manifest 
the  spirit  which,  all  my  life  I  had  recognised  and  worshipped 
in  Clyde's  uncle.  The  high  moral  integrity  which  ever 
characterized  his  dealings  with  his  fellow-men,  was  nothing 
compared  to  his  soul  of  justice  and  charity.  I  crept  close 
to  him,  kissed  his  hand  reverently,  then  led  him  to  where 
Clyde  lay,  calm-faced,  patiently  awaiting.  He,  too,  looked 
and  spoke  proudly  the  man  that  was  in  him. 

"Uncle,  I  am  glad  for  the  trial  that  has  come  to  you, 
and  the  noble  words  that  I  have  heard  you  speak.  I  am 
enabled  now  to  see  my  way  and  duty  clearly ;  no  false 
scruples  of  honor  shall  deter  me  from  the  performance  of 
that  duty.  As  regards  the  great-  crime  for  which  I  stand 
condemned,  I  leave  that  to  God.  May  my  transgression 
be  blotted  out  by  this  return  to  my  allegiance.  Send  for 
my  brother,  his  wish  shall  be  respected ;  in  due  form  will  I 
swear  to  support  the  old  flag ;  and  ere  I  die  we  will  shake 
hands  once  more  under  its  starry  folds." 

Long  and  sweet  was  the  conference  that  ensued.  Thus 
came  peace  to  our  household.  Sweet  Ala  Ray,  what  had 
not  thy  blessed  influence  accomplished ! 

Long  protracted  had  been  the   struggle  with   duty  in 

13* 


298  THE  MONTANA S. 

Raymond's  heart ;  he  could  not  bring  himself  to  arrest  Clyde ; 
his  brother  should  be  permitted  to  die  in  peace,  even 
thouf>"h  he  suffered  court-martial  for  the  omission. 

o 

He  had  promised  his  little  daughter  he  would  come  home 
to  stay  when  the  daisies  bloomed ;.  he  sent  on  his  resigna- 
tion, which  was  accepted  previous  to  the  expiration  of  his 
term  of  sendee. 

His  gratitude  was  boundless  when  he  learned  the  purpose 
for  which  he  was  summoned  a  second  time ;  his  banner  had 
spoken  for  him ;  his  country  was  \indicated ;  so  was  his 
brother. 

Not  so,  however,  in  the  estimation  of  those  self-righteous 
men  who  had  expostulated  with  Mr.  Kingswell  in  the 
morning.  They  returned  at  nightfall,  with  a  detachment 
of  home  guards  from  a  neighboring  town,  and  demanded 
that  Col.  Ingram  should  be  delivered  up  to  them.  Ray- 
mond, strangely  moved,  advanced  to  the  leader,  with  drawn 
sword,  bade  him  halt  and  await  his  commands.  Messrs. 
Seaman  and  Bridgewater,  from  the  rear,  made  use  of  some 
impatient  and  rather  unchristian-like  expletives,  which, 
however,  availed  them  little.  Thus  they  kept  guard  until 
morning. 

Within — ah !  within,  the  man's  spirit  was  lea\ing  its 
clay  ;  peacefully,  gently,  as  the  child  who  went  before,  his 
soul  passed  away.  All  night  we  watched,  until  the  morn- 
ing; then  there  was  only  the  white  face  of  the  dead,  and 
the  morning  of  a  new  life.  Very  calmly  he  slept  the  pale 
sleep,  and  we  spread  the  old  flag  over  him  as  he  lay 
there. 

"Gentlemen,"  said  Raymond,  in  a  harsh,  stern  voica^ 
advancing  a  second  time  to  where  the  guard  stood  waiting, 
"  allow  me  to  conduct  you  to  the  prisoner." 

They  came  into  the  death-chamber,   followed   by   the 


THE  MO  NT  AN  AS.  299 

deacon  and  the  elder,  who  looked  so  abashed  and  crest- 
fallen, it  was  piteous  to  behold  them. 

"  Gentlemen,"  continued  Raymond,  "  this  little  handfol 
of  dust  is  what  you  have  been  warring  with  for  days  and 
weeks ;  bring  your  strength  to  bear  upon  it ;  scatter  it  to 
the  winds  ;  he  was  a  traitor,  but  one  who  came,  when  death 
pressed  him  hard,  to  clasp  the  hand  of  his  mother's  son, 
and  die  under  the  folds  of  the  old  flag.  When  you  have 
satisfied  yourselves,  you  may  withdraw ;  this  prisoner  whom 
you  sought  is  my  comrade  and  brother;  with  the  honors 
of  war  he  shall  be  buried." 

And  thus  was  buried  Clyde  Ingram,  of  Claremont. 


CHAPTER   XXII. 

*^'Ti3  morning  again  on  the  tents  and  the  spears, 
But  the  soldier's  voice  is  for  ever  still— 
There's  a  form  that  io  missed  from  om-  cavaliers ; 
There's  a  sweet  face  blarred  with  its  bitter  tears ; 
There's  a  new-made  grave  on  the  hill." 

Col.  Hawkins,  C.  S.  A. 

This  wail  kept  ringing  through  my  heart,  low  and  plain- 
tive as  the  voice  of  spring,  which  came  not  as  our  South- 
em  springs;  true,  the  dun  skies  cleared  into  blue,  birds 
sang,  and  flowers  upsprang  at  the  sunbeam's  touch,  yet 
there  was  in  the  air  a  haze  as  of  slow  falling  tears;  broken 
wreaths  of  snow  lay  on  the  new-made  graves  long  after  we 
counted  the  pulses  of  coming  warmth;  until  the  slopes 
were  green,  and  verdure  clothed  the  far  New  Hampshire 
hills,  and  distant  fens  gathered  mossy  sprays.  I  thought 
how  the  cypress  bloomed  in  coral  clusters  in  our   far-otf 


300  THE  MONTANA  S. 

Southern  home,  while  we  gathered  their  black  garlands  in 
another  land.  AATiere  were  the  orange  blossoms  on  our 
home  shore,  from  which  the  gulf  rolled  waves  of  green  to 
a  wide,  wide  reach  of  sea  ?  Alas !  neither  of  us  would 
ever  wear  one  little  wreath  of  the  bright  symbols  that  had 
grown  about  our  youth.  Stanley's  white  wreath — another 
had  worn  it ;  my  garland  was  of  cypress.  To  us  were  left 
only  memories  of  the  days  that  had  been ;  that  would  be 
no  more ;  and — 

OUR  DEAD. 

"Nothing  is  our  own;  we  hold  our  pleasures 

Just  a  little  while^  ere  they  are  fled ; 

One  bj  one  life  robs  us  of  our  treasures ; 

Nothing  is  our  own  except  our  dead. 

They  are  ours,  and  hold  in  faithful  keeping, 

Safe  for  ever,  all  they  took  away. 
Cruel  life  can  never  stir  that  sleeping ; 

Cruel  time  can  never  seize  that  prey. 

Justice  pales ;  truth  fades ;  stars  fall  from  heaven ; 

Human  are  the  great  whom  we  revere ; 
No  true  crown  of  honor  can  be  given, 

TUl  the  wreath  hes  on  a  funeral  bier. 

How  the  children  leave  us — and  no  traces 

Linger  of  that  smiling  angel  band ; 
Gone,  for  ever  gone ;  and  in  their  places, 

"Weary  men  and  anxious  women  stand. 

Yet  we  have  some  Httle  ones,  still  ours ; 

They  have  kept  the  baby  smile,  we  know, 
"WTiich  we  kissed  one  day,  and  hid  with  flowers, 

On  their  dead  white  faces  long  ago. 

When  our  joy  is  lost,  and  life  wUl  take  it, — 
Then  no  memory  of  the  past  remains, 


THE  MOyTANAS.  301 

Save  with  some  strange,  cruel  things,  that  makes  it 
Bitterness  beyond  all  present  pains. 

Death,  more  tender-hearted,  leaves  to  sorrow, 

Still  the  radiant  shadow,  fond  regret ; 
"We  shall  find,  in  some  far  bright  to-morrow, 

Joy  that  he  has  taken,  Uving  yet. 

Is  love  ours,  and  do  we  dream  we  know  it, 
Bound  with  all  our  heart-strings,  all  our  own  ? 

Any  cold  and  cruel  dawn  may  show  it, 
Shattered,  desecrated,  overthrown. 

Only  the  dead  hearts  forsake  us  never: 
Love,  that  to  death's  loyal  care  has  fled, 

Is  thus  consecrated  ours  for  ever, 

And  no  change  can  rob  us  of  our  dead. 

So  when  fate  comes  to  besiege  our  city, 

Dim  our  gold,  or  make  our  flowers  faU, 
Death,  the  Angel,  comes  in  love  and  pity, 

And  to  save  our  treasures,  claims  them  aU. 

Littell's  Living  Age. 

Yes,  our  dead  were  ours  in  trutli ;  though  a  wide  rough 
world  lay  between  us,  yet  how  brightly  shone  hope  on  the 
journey  o'er  which  we  should  pass  to  join  them  in  one 
of  those  far  bright  to-morrows,  whose  nights  were  under 
the  eternal  stars.  There  was  no  denying  the  space  in  my 
life ;  a  space  all  shadowed  by  a  grave  in  spring-time  ;  though 
the  chords  of  my  soul  were  swept  by  a  spirit-hand,  and 
that  space  outstretching  towards  the  broad  everywhere  in 
the  dim-lying  future,  could  be  filled  by  no  lesser  radiance. 
I  had  loved  him !  There  was  glory  in  that  one  great 
truth,  which  no  after  prevarication  could  cancel  or  circum- 
stance annul ;  the  destiny  of  two  souls  lay  in  its  wide 
compass.  I  knew  that  I  lived  on  in  that  dead  heart,  passed 
beyond  the  reach  of  time  and  change.    It  was  a  higher  will 


302  THE  MONTANA S. 

than  chance  that  placed  this  burden  on  my  life.  There 
was  enough  of  joy  in  this  consciousness  to  palliate  the  hun- 
ger in  my  desolate  heart.  God,  who  is  God  of  the  van- 
quished, as  well  as  of  the  victor  and  the  fallen,  was  his 
God ;  in  this  trust  there  was  a  holy  peace. 

Another  change  had  come  to  pass  in  Raymond's  home ; 
a  little  daughter  was  added  to  the  household.  Before  Ala 
died  the  parents  had  wished  for  a  son !  Now  they  were  glad 
it  was  otherwise.  Little  Jamie,  Leah's  child,  had  been 
adopted  as  their  own ;  not  to  fill  the  lost  one's  place,  we 
could  not  have  borne  that — but  he  had  grown  into  our 
hearts  strangely  of  late.  Leah's  gratitude  was  boundless, 
but  William  Kingswell  never  heard  her  thanks,  though  it 
was  he  who  brought  the  matter  about. 

This  spring-time  brought  home  Frederick  Seaman  from 
a  long  tarrying  over  seas.  He  had  made  a  great  deal 
of  money.  Not  daring  to  visit  Leah  in  person,  he  wrote 
several  letters,  asking  for  her  hand ;  proposing  to  relinquish 
all  claims  to  the  child,  which  bore  its  mother's  name.  Leah 
manifested  the  true  dignity,  latent  in  her  character,  by  omit- 
ting to  give  heed  to  his  proposals  in  whatever  shape  they 
came.  He  had  wooed  and  won  her  once,  and  then  betrayed 
her  trusting  love.  For  her  faith  in  him  she  had  endured 
years  of  ignominy  and  shame ;  he  exhibited  no  penitence 
that  he  had  caused  her  to  suffer.  She  had  been  weak,  very 
weak,  but  now  she  could  be  strong,  for  right  was  on  her 
side.  By  our  aid  she  had  worked  her  way  up  from  mazes 
of  sin,  and  stood  firmly  in  God's  clear  light  once  more. 
"We  were  rejoiced  to  feel  that  our  confidence  was  not  mis- 
placed. 

Captain  Bob  Eldridge,  on  his  death-bed,  sent  for  William 
Kingswell.  I  was  at  Ridgely  when  the  summons  came. 
Poor  old  man,  whose  sense  of  shame  was   stronger  than 


THE  MONTANAS.  303 

the  ties  of  natural  affection — who  could  never  bring  him- 
self to  exercise  forgiveness  towards  others,  not  even  his  own 
kindred,  now  had  need  himself  to  be  forgiven.  He  had 
come  down  to  that  last  strait  in  life  when  we  all  feel 
more  or  less  our  dependence  and  reliance  upon  one  another. 
When  Clyde's  uncle  went  to  him  I  pleaded  to  go  too ;  I  had 
found  my  way  by  his  side,  up  many  a  steep  of  suffering, 
since  Clyde  left  me  in  the  wide  world,  with  no  destiny 
only  to  work  my  way  to  him  once  more. 

I  had  not  seen  Capt.  Bob  since  we  went  to  ask  of  him  a 
home  for  Leah  and  her  nameless  child.  Xow  I  pitied  the 
old  man  from  my  soul ;  over  those  stormy  gorges  of  pas- 
sion he  had  not  found  the  pathway  clear  to  God's  love  and 
peace.  He  had  gone  downhill  ever  since ;  the  room  yawned 
with  the  meao-reness  of  its  few  articles  of  furniture.  He 
lay  upon  a  miserable  pallet,  made  of  blankets  soiled  and 
torn — the  grey  old  miser,  alone  in  crowds,  and  childless  in 
sight  of  his  children ;  in  want,  with  plenty  to  make  him 
independent.  A  few  minutes  after  we  entered,  a  young 
man  came  in,  bringing  a  bowl  of  gruel  from  a  neighboring 
restaurant.  I  observed  him  narrowly  while  he  ministered 
to  the  feeble  old  man,  who  vouchsafed  a  few  words  to  him 
in  return  for  his  kindness. 

"  Now  lay  me  down,  Fred."  Then,  turning  to  Mr.  Kings- 
well,  he  said  in  tones  broken  with  misery  : 

"  Of  all  the  fiiends  and  messmates  who  flocked  about  me 
in  my  days  of  prosperity,  he  alone  has  volunteered  to  stand 
by  me  in  this  bitter  hour." 

Ah !  thought  I,  long  years  ago  he  had  denied  his  only 
child  that  privilege,  and  Fred.  Seaman  was  the  cause  there- 
of. He  looked  abashed  in  presence  of  Mr.  Kingswell,  and 
said,  half-apologetically,  with  a  dash  of  his  old  spirit :  (I 
realized  who  it  was  that  poor  Leah  so  loved.     Oh,  had  his 


304  THE  MONTANAS. 

principle  been  strong  enough  to  sustain  those  generous  and 
tender  impulses,  how  different  it  might  have  been  with 
both !  Perchance  they  had  not  then  come  under  the  hard 
ban  of  the  transgressor.) 

"  I  found  the  old  man  on  the  street  when  I  returned  from 
abroad.  He,  you  are  well  aware,  is  father  to  the  woman 
who  should  have  been  my  -v^dfe.  I  have  come  often  to  his 
shelter-tent,  and  shall  continue  to  do  so  while  he  needs  me, 
which,  I  imagine,  will  not  be  for  long.  He  wished  to  see 
you — that  is  why  I  sent  the  message  which  you  have  so 
promptly  responded  to.  I  do  not  think  he  is  quite  satis- 
fied that  I  am  by  his  side,  though  if  I  had  not  chanced 
to  be  here  he  might  have  died  alone.  Mr.  Kingswell,  you 
are  a  good  man,  a  God-fearing  man ;  you  will  acquit  me  in 
this  matter  of  any  motive  save  that  of  trying,  in  a  very 
slight  measure,  to  atone  for  the  wrong  done  to  parent  and 
child.  I  do  not  want  the  wealth  that  he  has  hoarded ;  I 
could  never  be  brought  to  touch  a  penny  of  it ;  I  should 
accept  nothing  save  that  which  he  once  refused  to  bestow 
upon  me — which,  after  having  won,  I  trifled  away,  because 
I  had  not  moral  strength  to  keep  it.  This  gift  and  favor 
you  may  have  it  in  your  power  to  confer  upon  me ;  at  least, 
you  may  influence  matters  to  that  end,  when  I  have  re- 
purchased my  integrity,  and  earned  an  honest  man's  right  to 
ask  it  of  you,  who,  for  a  long  time,  have  been  her  only  friend. 
Almost  six  years  ago,  when  you  picked  me  up  on  the  hill- 
side, a  miserable  drunkard,  and  I  heard  your  pitying  words, 
I  resolved  to  do  this  thing,  though  there  were  scores  of 
good  Pharisees  crying:  *He  is  lost!'  Ah,  yes!  Lost, 
with  God's  world  around  me,  and  my  manhood  within ; 
lost,  because  they  refused  to  lift  me  from  my  fallen  estate 
and  stand  me  on  my  feet  again ;  lost,  because  at  the  man- 
date of  such,  society  had  barred  her  gates  against  me,  and 


TUE  MOKTANAS.  305 

against  the  woman  whom  passion,  not  love,  had  profaned ; 
and  upon  the  brow  of  each  of  us  had  written  that  damning 
word — outcast !  No,  no ;  not  all  lost !  In  the  mazes  of 
my  beastly  intoxication,  I  heard  your  words  ringing  clear 
in  my  understandinop  heart : 

'  When  I  see  a  man  thus  debased  and  fallen,  I  do  not  feel 
hke  thanking  God  that  I  am  not  as  that  man  is,  but  that 
I  have  not  been  tempted  as  he  has  been.' 

"  Ah,  sir,  those  words  saved  me !  Not  feeling  strong 
enough  to  climb  the  steep  passes  to  the  world's  favor  here, 
I  fled  from  temptation.  Since  I  crossed  the  ocean  I  have 
not  tasted  ardent  spirits.  From  my  old  boon  compa- 
nions, who  did  not  forget  me,  I  learned  how  the  same  dis- 
ciple who  had  uplifted  me  in  my  sorrowful  abasement,  had 
taken  to  his  own  home  the  victim  of  my  wrong.  I  resolved 
to  show  you  that  there  is  no  man,  however  low  he  may 
have  fallen,  who,  by  a  little  timely  aid,  may  not  reform, 
if  there  are  any  to  point  the  way.  Had  you  spumed  me, 
as  did  others  of  your  set,  I  might  now  be  consumed  by 
those  still  fires  which  the  waters  of  repentance  sometimes 
fail  to  quench." 

"  Who  dare  be  silent,  when  by  chance  they  may  speak 
so  strong  a  word  for  God  and  man  ? "  thought  I,  while 
young  Seaman  continued  to  talk  : 

"  There  is  a  secret  which  not  even  poor  Leah  knows ;  the 
old  man  may  tell  you — I  have  done ; "  though  he  stood 
still  holding  his  hat  as  though  there  was  something  he 
would  say.  Then  in  a  husky  voice,  through  which  trickled 
the  tears  that  were  in  the  hazy  air  of  that  spring-]jme,  he 
continued : 

"  If  you  will  allow  me,  I  would  like  to  ask  you  about 
Leah,  though  I  feel  that  she  is  much  too  good  for  me.  I 
should  not  come  a  second  time  to  seek  her,  did  I  not  be- 


306  THE  MONT  AN  AS. 

lieve  her,  of  all  the  women  I  have  ever  known,  the  most  vir- 
tuous— the  most  upright  by  nature.  No  man,  unless  bj 
the  same  avenues  of  her  strong  love  through  which  I  led 
her,  could  ever  win  her  as  I  did.  Knowing  this,  I  suppli- 
cate of  you  the  gift  of  her  hand  in  marriage.  I  will  not 
ask  this  of  her  father ;  had  he  not  once  denied  Leah  to  me, 
it  might  have  been  different.  My  mother  is  anxious  and 
willing  now  to  receive  her  as  my  wife.  As  for  the  child,  I 
am  glad  for  his  sake  that  your  son  has  adopted  him ;  I 
have  forfeited  the  right  to  claim  him.  I  shall  hear  your 
decision." 

"  Nobody  shall  claim  the  right  to  provide  for  that  child 
except  myself,"  exclaimed  Captain  Bob,  almost  fiercely. 
"  My  money  shall  be  his !  Since  poor  Alice  died,  and 
Leah  left  me,  I  have  toiled  on  for  his  sake  to  this  end.  My 
old,  desolate  heart  yearned  over  him ;  but  I  gave  no  sign, 
for  he  was  in  William  Kingswell's  house."  Then  turning 
to  Clyde's  uncle :  "  Send  the  girl  away — I  have  something 
I  must  say :  the  night  is  coming  on,  and  I  would  be  alone 
with  you." 

It  was  growing  late  and  we  left  them,  Fred  and  I — the 
righteous  and  the  unforgiving  together — and  came  down 
the  hill  trampling  the  daisies  of  spring  beneath  our  feet. 
I  had  been  both  pleased  and  affected  at  the  young  man's 
recital ;  so  much  so,  I  promised  to  use  my  influence  with 
Leah  for  his  sake.  Thus  it  came  about,  that  this  man, 
whom  I  had  long  held  in  superstitious  horror,  aloof  from 
my  thoughts  even,  because  of  his  wrong  to  my  friend, 
now  that  I  had  met  him  face  to  face,  and  saw  suffering 
where  before  I  had  seen  only  sin ;  had  recognised  his  gene- 
rous self-abnegation,  his  tender  love  and  manly  truth; 
I  found  myself  espousing  his  cause  ere  I  was  aware  of  it. 
I  had  come,  reader,  to  feel  what  we  all  must,  should  those 


THE  MONTANAS.  307 

in  whom  we  have  an  mterest  err  and  fall — to  separate  the 
sinner  from  the  fault,  and  not  confound  the  first  wrong  step 
which  may  be  retraced,  with  an  after  career  of  abandon- 
ment. I  trust  none  of  us  can  have  sympathy  or  affiliation 
with  hardened  guilt;  yet  it  is  only  Christian-like  to 
discriminate  between  those  who  sin  from  impulse 
against  principle,  and  those  who  have  no  principle  to 
violate. 

During  our  walk  home,  Fred  told  me  what  I  was  puzzled 
and  confounded  to  hear,  exhorting  me,  at  the  same  time, 
not  to  repeat  it  until  the  season  came  in  which  it  might  be 
revealed.  That  night,  with  Stanley's  golden  head  lying 
close  to  mine,  looking  over  the  starry  way  to  heaven,  I 
pondered  of  that  strange  revelation. 

Mr.  Kingswell  prevailed  upon  Captain  Bob  to  see  Leah. 
Thus,  in  the  presence  of  God  and  the  dying,  she  and  Fred 
renewed  their  vows.  Little  Jamie,  too,  was  brought  by 
Eaymond  to  kiss  the  withered  cheek  of  his  grandsire.  He 
returned  home  carrying  a  bag  well  filled  with  gold  coin, 
which  the  old  man  had  given  him  with  his  own  hand  just 
before  he  passed  away.  After  that  conference  with  William 
Kingswell,  Captain  Bob  Eldridge  seemed  well  contented  to 
go,  and  waited  patiently  for  the  time  to  come  when  his 
master  should  call  him.  I  know  not  what  Clyde's  uncle 
said  to  him  from  time  to  time,  but  the  messages  were  those 
of  peace,  which  came  with  its  golden  tides  coursing  hke 
the  river  of  my  dream  which  broke  its  billows,  now,  on  dim, 
far  shores  of  the  eternal.  The  members  of  that  widely- 
sundered  band  were  di'awn  together  by  the  shining  links 
of  that  peace,  bound  fast  for  time  to  come.  Then  by  the 
grave  in  the  field  where  the  poor  of  Way  burn  were  buried, 
another  grave  was  made,  and  two  white  stones  reared  side 
by  side  in  the  spring-time  :  the  voice  that  had  prayed  that 


308  THE  MOirrANAS. 

strange,  solemn  prayer  of  faith  when  Ala  slept,  was  up- 
raised here. 

After  a  few  days — in  the  old  church,  in  the  bright  village 

green — Leah  and  Fred  were  married.  In  the  very  presence 
of  Mr.  Seaman  and  those  who  had  dared  to  cry  her  down, 
she  became  the  wife  of  this  young  man,  who  belonged  to 
one  of  the  first  families  in  the  place.  Notwithstanding  the 
array  of  hollow  smiles  and  malicious  home-thrusts  incident  to 
such  occasions,  there  were  many  who  were  rejoiced  that  it 
was  so,  and  who  gave  it  as  their  opinion  that  Leah  had 
only  been  justly  dealt  by.  Mrs.  Seaman  said  she  always 
felt  that  Leah  was  a  good  girl,  and  ought  to  be  encouraged ; 
so  my  friend,  bearing  no  resentment,  accepted  the  proffered 
hand  of  the  woman  who  had  always  treated  her  in  her 
neighbor's  house  as  in  her  own,  as  a  menial,  w^hose  pre- 
sence she  could  barely  tolerate.  But  that  was  all  passed 
now;  Leah  was  justified  by  the  world  that  had  renounced 
her. 

I  met  Clyde's  uncle  in  the  graveyard,  one  afternoon. 
He  led  me  to  a  seat,  very  tender  in  manner ;  he  saw  the 
tears  upon  my  cheek. 

"  Jennie,  I  honor  you  for  those  tears ;  I  know  how  true 
to  the  dead  your  heart  is,  but  you  will,  in  time,  become 
reconciled  to  the  decree  of  Providence.  You  will  love 
again  ;  you  will  marry." 

I  was  wounded ;  he  felt  that  I  was,  for  he  took  my  hand, 
saying : 

"  I  must  tell  you  the  story  of  my  youth ;- 1  believe  there 
is  some  such  cross  in  every  life.  We  learn  to  bear  it ;  grow 
accustomed  to  the  burden ;  it  is  but  just  and  right  that  it 
should  be  so." 

"  Such  a  cross  in  every  life  ?     Surely  not  in  yours  ? " 

"  Yes ;  one  that  well  nigh  drove  me  mad." 


THE  MONTANAS.  309 

"  Long  years  ago,  in  a  seaport  town,  I  lived  with  my 
pious  parents  and  only  sister,  in  an  old  homestead,  very 
quaint  and  curiously  wrought,  after  the  Puritan  fashion.  My 
father  was  generous  and  high-souled,  a  Mnd  husband,  a 
strong  staff  to  my  mother,  who  was  blind.  He  had  brought 
her  from  Scotland ;  a  minstrel  of  wondrous  beauty,  he 
seemed  to  love  her  more  for  her  entire  dependence  on  him. 
In  my  sister  there  was  early  manifest  a  strange  disposition 
to  wander  from  the  home-ways ;  whenever  she  heard  a 
snatch  of  a  song  our  mother  had  sung  to  us,  she  would 
follow  the  sound  until  she  found  the  singer.  Once  or  twice 
she  lost  herself  in  the  vain  attempt,  and  we  were  compelled 
to  summon  assistance  in  seeking  her  out.  Alice  grew  up 
very  beautiful !  Hers  was  a  strange,  classic  beauty,  superb 
in  repose,  and  when  animated  is  what  men  will  dare  all 
things  and  die  for.  Several  gentlemen  of  wealth  and  re- 
finement, in  our  circle,  sought  her  hand ;  she  gave  heed  to  none 
of  them,  for  her  heart  was  untouched.  It  remained  so  un- 
til a  stranger  of  great  beauty — a  wonderful  singer,  a  sailor 
by  occupation — knowing  that  we  would  never  consent  to 
the  arrangement,  sought  her  clandestinely.  They  had  met 
by  chance  ;  the  acquaintance  was  well  begun  ere  our  know- 
ledge of  it.  With  that  perverseness  which  had  always 
characterized  her,  my  beautiful  sister  gave  to  the  untaught 
sailor  that  which  others  had  sought  for  in  vain.  He  laugh- 
ingly boasted  of  having  won 

"  *  The  girl  who  gave  to  song  what  gold  could  never  buy.' 

"We  forbade  him  to  see  her  again;  then  came  the 
sequel :  she  fled  with  him,  leaving  no  line  to  relieve  our  sus- 
pense. I  had  never  believed  his  intentions  to  be  honora- 
ble towards  my  sister ;  now,  of  course,  we  feared  the  worst, 


310  THE  MONT  AN  AS. 

and  the  shame  bowed  me  to  the  very  dust.  My  grief  was 
purely  selfish ;  I  was  engaged  to  a  beautiful  girl,  whose 
parents  withdrew  their  sanction  to  our  union  because  of 
the  ignominy  that  had  come  upon  our  "house. 

**  In  my  fierce  soitow,  I  thought  only  of  my  own  hard 
loss,  and  did  not  pity,  as  I  should  have  done,  our  poor, 
blind  mother,  who  sat  helplessly,  day  after  day,  moaning 
with  hands  outstretched  piteously  towards  the  sea,  over 
which  we  supposed  Alice  had  gone ;  and  the  old  father, 
who  stooped  lower  daily  with  the  weight  that  was  growing 
upon  him.  Ere  long,  we  received  a  taunting  letter  from 
Alice's  betrayer,  which  I  did  not  answer.  Then  one  from 
her,  in  which  she  made  no  mention  of  her  fault,  even  spoke 
as  though  she  had  not  committed  one,  telling  me  she  was 
very  happy  in  her  European  home.  This  so  exasperated 
me,  I  wrote  to  her  bitterly,  angrily,  that  she  should  never 
again  manifest  to  me,  by  word  or  deed,  the  humiliating 
fact  that  we  abode  in  the  same  world  together.  I  after- 
wards regretted  my  harshness,  when  repentance  was  of  no 
avail;  and  not  until  other  years  with  their  trials  came,  did 
I  realize  how  unkind  I  had  been  to  my  parents  and  to  her. 
The  grass  grows  green  upon  their  graves  now ;  that  old 
home  has  long  been  desolate. 

"  Oh  !  how  I  mourned  my  broken  dream  !  Sorrow  passed, 
leaving  me  only  despair.  I  was  too  proud  to  supplicate 
for  the  hand  that  had  once  been  given  me  ;  yet  only  God 
knew  what  I  suffered  in  the  sundering  of  those  bright 
bonds.  She  had  been  brought  to  believe  that  I  no  longer 
wished  that  she  should  be  my  wife.  Nothing  but  this  re- 
flection could  have  induced  her  to  relinquish  me  ;  my  cold- 
ness and  sUence  confirmed  the  belief  incited  by  the  doubts 
of  her  parents. 

"  Thev  made  known  their  wishes ;  she,  gentle,  yielding, 


THE  MONTAXAS.  311 

became  the  wife  of  a  ricli  and  elegant  Soutlienier.  I  thouglit 
my  heart  was  broken  !  I  fled  before  the  profanation  of  my 
high  hopes.  I  left  home — came  away  from  the  hated 
scenes.  Here,  in  this  lovely  spot,  through  its  vales  of 
quietness,  by  the  rolling  river-side  and  the  light  of  morning 
on  those  far  hills,  I  found  my  way  to  God  after  a  few  years. 
When  the  Father  had  given  me  strength  to  go,  I  went 
home  and  remained  until  the  old  people  were  gone.  She, 
too,  was  gone,  my  beautiful  Edith,  with  her  proud,  haughty 
husband,  to  his  southera  home.  Her  grave  is  there  now, 
under  the  flowers  of  this  spring-time. 

"  Long  afterwards,  when  it  was  little  triumph  to  know  the 
fact,  I  learned  how  deeply  she  had  loved  me.  She  wrote, 
on  the  death  of  her  husband,  telling  me  all ;  asking  me  to 
be  a  father  to  her  husband's  son.  That  son  was  Clyde  In- 
gram !  She  afterwards  married  your  uncle  ;  Raymond  and 
Stanley  were  her  children.  I  loved  them,  but  not  as  I 
loved  Clyde — he  was  my  own  :  his  youth  was  passed  with 
me  here.  You,  Jennie,  have  often  called  me  Clyde's  uncle  ! 
I  was  your  own  as  much  as  his.  Shortly  after  Edith's 
second  marriage,  I  married  Mary  Mellville,  whom  I  met 
on  my  return  home,  and  brought  her  back  with  me  to 
Waybum.  She  has  been  a  good  and  true  wife,  and  we 
have  lived  happily  in  the  performance  of  our  duties  to  each 
other  and  to  God.  There  was  in  my  feeling  for  her  none 
of  the  wild,  clinging  tenderness  of  the  former  passion,  but 
something  deeper,  truer,  more  enduring  than  the  first. 
She  is  very  dear  to  me  now.  Towards  my  son,  the  best 
beloved  of  my  heart,  I  have  performed  the  last  duty.  He 
never  knew  quite  how  well  I  loved  him,  or  how  I  prayed 
after  he  had  taken  that  one  wrong  step  that  he  might  come 
back  to  us,  if  only  to  die.  My  prayer,  thank  God,  was 
granted. 


312  THE  MONTANA  S. 

"  As  for  my  sister,  I  am  rejoiced  to  know  she  did  not  fall. 
Captain  Bob  Eldridge,  whom  we  knew,  wjis  Alice's  lawful 
husband;  and  Leah,  the  homeless  outcast,  to  whom  we 
gave  shelter,  was  her  child.  Jennie,  I  have  often  read  that 
sacred  promise,  'Cast  thy  bread  upon  the  waters  and  it 
shall  return  after  many  days.'  'VMio  could  have  guessed 
that  little  act  of  kindness  would  be  thus  requited ;  that  we 
were  extending  charity  to  those  of  our  own  household ! 

"  Then  we  two  came  and  stood  by  the  graves  ;  every  life 
is  growing  fuller  of  them  in  these  battle-days ;  the  land 
seems  one  great  burial-place. 

"  Our  baby  minstrel  is  singing  to-night !  I  often  hear  her 
little  voice,  and  fancy  I  see  her  sweet  eyes  looking  to  me 
from  the  world  of  light :  the  radiance  nestles  and  warms 
my  soul." 

For  me  the  altar-fires  of  another  love,  too,  were  burning 
as  we  came  up  the  broad  street  to  Ridgely.  I  saw  the 
fair  round  moon  far  over  the  New  Hampshire  hills,  and  the 
bright  river  ran  crystal  clear  to  the  distant  sea.  The 
lights  of  om'  home  shone  sweetly  as  we  came  from  the 
shadows  without  into  their  brightness. 


CHAPTER  XXIII. 

"  Thou  art  the  friend 
To  whom  the  shadows  of  long  years  extend.** 

Btkon'b  Chtldb  Habou). 

It  was  the  anniversary  of  Stanley's  birthday.  Our  cottage 
was  lovely  to  see ;  we  had  woven  wreaths  for  its  pictures, 
and  in  each  vine-trellised  window  we  placed  a  nosegay  of 


THE  MONTANAS.  313 

flowers  from  the  garden  walk,  over  which  an  angel's  feet 
had  lately  passed.  Miss  Phoebe,  arrayed  in  her  favorite 
gown,  was  preparing  tea  for  our  expected  guests. 

First  came  Leah  and  Frederick,  serenely  happy ;  then 
Raymond,  proud  and  handsome,  with  Mary,  on  whose  face 
^^as  the  bloom  of  her  youthful  beauty,  brmgmg  their 
bright-haired  boy  and  baby  girl;  a  happy  family,  sorrow- 
chastened,  but  happy  still.  Then  came  Mr.  and  Mrs. 
Kmgswcll,  calm,  serene,  as  usual. 

Stanley  was  engaged  in  conversation  with  George  Seaman, 
younger  son  of  our  old  friend,  who  had  avenged  Stanley 
on  his  mother,  by  falling  in  love  with  her.     The  old  lady, 
however,  strongly  urged  the  matter,  and  devoted  all  her 
energies  to  bring  about  this  union.     She  worked  assiduously. 
Miss  Phoebe  maliciously  insinuated  that  she  seemed  more 
anxious  after  becoming  aware  of  Clyde  Ingram's  legacy  to 
us.     I  could  not  fail  to  observe  how  intently  she  watched 
them  from  a  settee,  over  her  round,  bowed  spectacles;  her 
countenance  evincing  the  satisfaction  she  could  not  conceal. 
Well,  she  might  have  gone  further,  and  found  for  her  son 
no  lovelier  bride.     Stanley  was  very  beautiful  that  night. 
She  wore  a  muslin  of  pure  white,  relieved  only  by  brooch 
and  pendants  of  jet;  her  curls  flowed;  again  the  bright 
crunson  shone  through  her  clear  cheeks,  and  her  eyes  were 
bright  as  stars,  hghted  with  a  hope  she  could  not  have 
defined,  and  did  not    understand.     Here  beau-cavaher  re- 
marked this,  and  she  answered  him  gaily : 

"  It  is  my  dress,  I  presume ;  well,  I  have  worn  black  for 
three  years,  and  worked  hard;  I  feel  free  to-night,  myste- 
riously happy  ;  why,  I  cannot  say." 

"  I  wish  I  dared  to  hope  that  my  presence " 

He  ceased  to  speak.  Mr.  Milverton  came  in ;  in  my 
greetings  of  him,  I  failed  to  perceive,  for  the  rooms  were 


314  THE  MONTANA  S. 

filling  rapidly,  that  a  stranger  hadstepped  in  at  the  bay- 
window,  which  opened  on  the  garden  path.  He  stood 
holding  his  hat,  heavily  shrouded  with  crape,  silently  regard- 
ing the  scene,  himself  unperceived.  His  hungry  eyes  were 
fixed  on  Stanley,  as  she  gracefully  crossed  the  room,  with 
young  Seaman,  to  welcome  Milverton.  He  heard  the 
oflBcious  mother  say : 

"  Oh,  yes !  I  am  sure  they  will  be  married  very  soon  ;  of 
course  Miss  Montana  will  not  refuse  my  son  ;  I  know  she 
thinks  the  world  of  him,  and  he  worships  the  very  ground 
she  walks  on." 

Just  then  the  young  man  restored  her  fan,  which  she 
chanced  to  let  fall.  She  thanked  him,  with  a  slight  inclina- 
tion of  her  queenly  head,  and  the  smile  so  radiant  it  dazzled 
him  more  than  her  words.  Both  were  misconstrued  by 
the  haughty  stranger,  who,  in  a  paroxysm  of  intense  pain, 
retreated,  unrecognised.  Milverton  soon  made  known  to 
me  the  facts  in  the  case ;  then  I  went  into  the  garden  to 
search  for  the  renegade,  whom  I  found  pacing  the  walks  like 
a  madman.  After  shaking  his  hand  warmly,  and  expressing 
my  pleasure  that  we  had  met  again,  I  said  reproachfully : 

"  Cousin  Warren,  is  this  your  return  for  the  love  of  that 
heart  that  was  so  true  to  you,  even  in  its  hopelessness  ?  " 

"  Ah,  Jennie,  you  know  not  how  madly  I  love  that 
woman ;  as  a  girl  she  was  never  half  so  dear  to  me ;  now 
to  see  an  insipid  \dllain  sueing  for  her  smiles ;  and  I  cast 
ofi",  forgotten." 

"  Warren,  for  Heaven's  sake,  desist ;  are  you  deranged  ? 
remember  Stanley  had  no  right  to  cherish  of  you  the  frailest 
memory.  By  so  doing  she  would  sin  less  against  another 
than  her  own  peace  of  mind.  You  forget  she  does  not  know 
that  you  are  free ;  I  myself  was  not  aware  of  it  until  you 
came  here  to-night." 


THE  MONTANAS.  315 

"  That  is  suflScient  reason  for  her  having  eschewed  the 
memory  of  her  former  friend." 

"  Warren,  you  are  as  unreasonable  as  ever ;  she  is  coming. 
I  bade  Milverton  send  her  to  me  here  :  conceal  yourself  in 
the  summer-house." 

He  obeyed.  She  came  singing  down  the  garden-way, 
her  golden  waves  of  hair  brightening  in  the  moonlight. 
How  like  a  time  of  old  breathed  the  enchantment  around 
us  to-night. 

"  Well,  Jennie  darling,  what  do  you  happen  to  want  of 
me?  I  left  Mr.  Milverton  to  play  hostess  in  my  place, 
while  I  came  in  answer  to  your  summons." 

"  Oh,  a  fit  of  musing  blues,  perhaps,  drove  me  forth.  I 
have  been  thinking  of  that  first  summer  so  long  gone,  and  of 
the  other  things  that  have  so  changed  since  then." 

"  Try  not  to  think  about  it  at  all,  dear ;  it  only  makes  you 
sad.     I  try  not  to  do  so." 

"  Nevertheless,  that  old  dream  of  yours,  Stanley,  you  have 
not  forgotten." 

"  Oh !  would  that  I  could  forget  it,  or  that  the  memory 
was  not  so  hopeless ;  for.  Jennie,  a  vision  often  crosses  my 
daily  work,  of  how  another  head  is  pillowed  on  the  heart 
that  should  have  been  my  own.  It  is  very  hard  to  think 
o^  though.  I  am  afraid'l  shall  never  be  strong  enough  to 
live  and  remember  no  more  *  what  might  have  been.'  " 

Ah !  cypress  flowers  entwined  with  her  orange  wreath ; 
these  withered  where  the  fountain  showered  its  diamond 
spray  in  drops  that  were  countless  as  the  tears  we  wept  for 
that  shadowy,  unreal  "  might  have  been." 

"  Think  of  it  no  more,  dearest,  all  that  was  so  vain  in 
the  past ;  greater  happiness  awaits  you ;  a  joy  that  will  not 
leave  you,  dear,  as  that  did.  Do  not  start,  do  not  scream. 
Warren  Hayne  is  a  free  man — his  wife  has  been  dead  for 


316  THE  MONTANAS. 

fifteen  months — he  is  yours;  you  shall  see  him  within  this 
hour." 

I  thought  she  was  going  to  fall,  she  was  so  pallid.  She 
clasped  her  hands  wildly  over  her  brow,  unable  to  compre- 
hend her  bliss,  then  said  piteously  : 

"  Oh  !  don't,  Jennie  ;  it  has  always  been  so  vain." 

"  Do  not  say  it  is  vain  any  more,  Stanley ;  come  to  my 
heart,  my  own  darling ;  it  shall  be  your  home  henceforth ; 
none  shall  ever  take  it  from  you  now." 

She  ran  into  the  arms  outstretched,  and  was  clasped  to 
his  true  heart. 

"Warren,  am  I  dreaming,  is  it  true,  shall  it  be  at  last, 
then?" 

"  Yes,  darling ;  pleasant  dreams  of  a  bliss  too  long  defer- 
red, though  blissful  yet ;  I  thank  God  for  my  joy  and  your 
love." 

The  old  caressing  tones — ^how  like  music  they  were  as  he 
talked  on. 

"  We  shall  have  another  wreath  of  Northern  orange 
blossoms,  darling,  for  your  golden  hair.  Ere  we  go  back 
where  I  may  look  upon  the  faces  of  the  good  people  assem- 
bled in  your  cottage  home,  you  must  name  the  day  which 
will  make  me  the  happiest  of  men.  I  want  to  congratulate 
Mrs.  Seaman  !  how  cruel  I  am  to  "have  spoiled  her  plan  of 
calling  you  daughter.  Well,  well,  it  matters  little  ;  I  have 
not  forgotten  her  propensity  to  interfere  with  others  less 
deservintr  than  mvseli." 

The  moon  came  up,  as  I  had  seen  her  many  a  time,  cheery 
and  bright,  above  the  New  Hampshire  hills.  Those  two 
■passed  down  the  garden-way,  the  glory  round  them,  while 
I  knelt  in  the  silence  and  thanked  God  ferv^ently. 

Milverton  had  announced  Warren's  arrival.  When  we 
reentered  the  house  all  eyes  were  turned  upon  Stanley, 


THE  MONTANAS.  317 

t 

who,  flushed  with  her  happiness,  leaned  gracefuUy  upon 
the  arm  of  her  betrothed.     Even  Mrs.  Seaman  saw  how  it 

would  be. 

The  morning  came — the  morning  of  their  bridal ;  mists 
paled,  and  the  noon  welled  in  its  tides  of  glory ;  softly  fell 
the  evening-time.  Ah!  those  Wayburn  bells!  they  had 
chimed  the  hour  of  worship  and  the  hour  of  death ;  they 
had  tolled  when  our  graves  were  made— the  gra¥es  where 
slept  our  dead.  We  never  loved  them  more  than  in  this 
hour  of  calm  happiness  in  which  we  passed  down  the  aisles 
of  the  lighted  church,  in  view  of  the  congregation  assem- 
bled to  witness  the  marriage  ceremonies  of  Warren  and 
Stanley.  Then  they  two  went  forth  bound  together  for 
time.     Who  would  have  thought  it  would  aU  have  ended 

thus ! 

Hoping  much,  I  promised  to  go  with  Stanley  to  her  new 
home ;  we  were  to  leave  Wayburn,  with  its  sun-lighted  paths ; 
its  melting  mists  and  hills  of  splendor ;  its  nights,  with  their 
watching  stars;  the  graves  that  were  wearing  their  sum- 
mer green,  to  live  again  in  the  world  of  fashion,  whose 
doors  were  once  more  opened  to  us.     There  was  a  way, 
God's  way,  in  which  Cousin  Warren  had  never  walked ;  by 
the  strength  of  his  love  for  his  wife  we  must  lead  him  there. 
There  was  a  merry  party  assembled  in  the  square  house  at 
Ridgely  upon  the  day  succeeding  the  marriage.     The  cot- 
tage, with  its  belongings,  was  Mr.  Kingswell's  bridal  gift  to 
Leah.     She  and  Frederick  were  established  in  their  new 
home  ere  we  took  Miss  Phoebe  to  New  York  to  Kve  with  us. 
The  patient  reader  who  has  gone  with  us  through  hours 
of  discipline,  who  has  smiled  with  us  when  gay,  and  wept 
with  us  when  the  grave-clods  were  falling,  knows  which 
most  to  hope  or  to  fear  for  our  future.     It  aU  rests  with 
God. 


318  THE  MONTANAS. 


• 


CHAPTER  XXIV. 

PEACE    AND    HOPE. 

"  Tho'  close  the  tie  that  bound  them,  yet  hath  Heaven 
A  closer  tie  to  the  true-hearted  given." 

A  YEAR  has  gone  by  !  A  year  full  of  momentous  events, 
which  would  in  themselves  constitute  a  nation's  traodc  hi«- 
tory.  The  armies  of  the  Republic  are  being  disbanded  and 
the  soldiers  mustered  out.  Many,  during  the  four  years  of 
war,  have  been  mustered  anew  into  the  ser\-ice  of  their 
God.  The  red  tides  have  ceased  their  coursing  through 
our  land.  Far-rolling  over  the  crimson  sea  of  revolution 
came  the  white  billows  of  peace.  By  the  grave-side  of  our 
illustrious  dead  were  the  hearts  in  the  whole  land  bowed 
down  and"  once  more  united  under  the  stars  of  our  victori- 
ous banner.  Once  more  the  Sonthem  braves  came 'to  rally 
round  the  old  standard,  whose  constellations  beam  upon  the 
broad  fields  where  sleep  the  dead — men  of  the  Xorth  and 
the  South  peacefully  together — under  the  stars  of  heaven, 
and  the  tattered  flag  waves  over  them.  In  the  broad 
noonday  of  our  renewed  prosperity,  I  see  the  arching 
bow  of  promise  spanning  the  heavens.  There  shall  be 
no  more  waiting ;  no  more  tears  and  death  ;  no  more  sacri- 
fices upon  the  altar  of  country ;  no  more  souls  added  to 
those  still  fires  of  patriotism,  which  flamed  so  fiercely  in 
those  long  nights  of  strife. 

"When  postal  communication  was  partially  reestablished, 
there  came  a  letter  from  Uncle  Montana.  During  the  first 
year  of  the  rebellion,  he  barely  existed  in  a  Southern  pri- 
son ;  he  was  incarcerated  for  his  Union  sentiments.  Upon 
the  acquisition  of  New  Orleans  by  the  Federal  forces,  he 
told  his  story,  and  was  released  and  placed  in  the  service 


THE  MONTANAS.  319 

of  the  Government.  During  the  three  years  of  hard  work, 
filHng  a  responsible  position,  he  laid  by  a  sum  of  money 
which  enabled  him  to  re-purchase  Claremont  of  the  authori- 
ties for  a  tithe  of  its  original  value.  It  was  uncle's  desire 
to  take  us  home  ao:ain.  The  Brio-htland  slaves  were  in 
the  Southern  service  ;  but  Aunt  Dinah,  Hawsey,  and  many 
more  of  our  female  servants,  were  anxious  that  we  should 
become  reestablished  in  the  old  home  once  more.  We 
would  go  South  in  the  autumn  ;  the  money  which  I  in- 
herited from  Clyde  I  would  cheerfully  expend  in  having 
the  old  things  back  as  near  as  possible  to  what  they  were. 
I  resolved  to  spend  Iny  summers  with  Stanley ;  she  and  I 
together  would  visit  Raymond  and  Ridgely ;  then  we 
should  all  go  to  Claremont  for  the  winter.  I  was  almost 
happy  in  making  plans ;  of  course,  we  might  expect  some 
deviations  from  our  former  style  of  living.  For  instance, 
we  could  never  have  again  what  death  had  taken  from  us. 

Lane  Austin  accepted  the  universal  amnesty  offered  by  the 
President,  and  came  North  to  see  us.  My  soldier  had 
availed  himself  of  that  offered  by  Christ — the  amnesty  of 
Heaven.  I  was  glad  to  see  Lane,  until  he  took  my  hand 
confidentially,  telling  me  that  he  had  loved  me  all  his  life. 
I  answered  earnestly  : 

"  Lane,  there  is  one  other  who  has  loved  me  thus,  who 
loves  me  stOl,  in  that  far  world,  beneath  whose  stars  I  stand 
in  this  nio-ht  of  mv  sorrowino-  for  him  on  the  earth.  Yes : 
he  loved  me,  and  I  him,  when 

"  '  He  went  forth 
His  princely  way  among  God's  staxs,  in  slow 
And  silent  brightness.' 

"I  promised  to  join  him  in  the  glory  yonder;  I  shall 


320  THE  MONTANAS. 

keep  my  word.  In  the  far-reaching  solitudes  of  my  wi- 
dowed heart  no  other  idol  shall  ever  come." 

I  was  right.  God  had  given  me,  in  answer  to  my  life- 
long prayer,  that  little  hour  of  love,  while  the  sun  went 
down.  I  could  sit  in  the  shadowy  twilight  with  my  mem- 
ory, in  whose  powerful  echoes,  says  Lamartine,  "  there  is 

only always  !  "  waiting  for  the  day-dawn,  whose  stars 

should  sing  together  the  song  of  triumph  over  the  death 
which  came  between  us. 

I  wore  no  black  for  him  who  wore  the  white  insignia  of 
peace.  My  love  had  donned  the  snowy  vestments  of  im- 
mortality. I  saw  the  heavenly  robes  of  the  redeemed  de- 
scending on  the  pale  sleep  through  which  his  life  rippled 
out.  Again,  at  morning,  beside  a  golden  river,  we  should 
stand  together — the  bright-flowing  river  of  everlasting  life  ! 

Oh,  my  Kve!  though  from  the  silence  of  thy  death 
there  comes  no  sound,  yet  solemnly  I  feel  how 

"  Immortality  o'er  sweeps 
All  pains,  all  tears,  all  time,  all  fears,  and  peals 
Like  the  eternal  thunders  of  the  deep. 
Unto  my  ears  this  truth :  Uwu  liv'stfor  ever  I " 


THE    END. 


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